At the Mouth of the Well
by Bellatrixbeauty
Summary: Look in. It seems bottomless, doesn't? Terrifying in that way. But drop a stone, or better, a torch, and it all comes to light. There is a sure end, as to everything. But be not afraid. It is the journey that matters. Then we may see where we've been, and know where we're going. Sequel to "Old Wives' Tales".
1. Chapter 1

**Bb says: **So here's the sequel to _Old Wive's Tales. _Yep. That's what this is. READ IT!

**Disclaimer: **I own no part of _Soul Eater_. So there.

Wedding cakes are strange objects that, for the most part, do not complete their primary function of being cake and take on the duty of being a piece of inedible art. Lovely loopy licks of lace like doilies on the sides, roses that claim to be made of spun sugar but taste more like chestnuts, and a dry interior flavored with organic honey but sawdust all the same. Sigh supposed it was fair; whenever Leroy back at Forbidden fantasy made a GOOD cake, it was always ugly. Maybe some things just needed to be ugly to contain a delicate sweetness.

But this reverie was pointless.

As another plate appeared before her, the waiter gently nodded like this as the first plate he had placed on the table. Like this was the first cake shop she had been in since the start of this doomed journey earlier that morning. But it wasn't; it was the fifth. Sigh wasn't sure why Death City had so many cake shops and asking would probably result in some response she wouldn't care to make sense of. All that mattered was that although each shop had the ability to produce delicious baking items (as her excursions in the city previously could attest to) they had somehow managed to scrounge up the lowest of the low when it came to actually earning a large paycheck. The cakes were beautiful, delicate, but so darn poopy she could hardly stand it.

But she was determined. And a determined Sigh was a dangerous Sigh. Her own wellbeing could wait! This was a mission she had been chosen to complete _personally _and she would not fail! Even if her tongue should fly from her mouth! Even if her eyes blind her with tears! Even if her teeth chip on the candied bows!

SHE WOULD PROCURE MAKA A GOOD WEDDING CAKE!

It was not a task given to her lightly, and it was not something she could fail with dire consequence, she knew. They were cutting it close to the wire with the wedding only a few days away.

Maka had had a cake planned, but the bakery had burned down. Down, down, to the ground, with not even a topper to stand on. And with her wedding in only a week, Maka had damn near broken into very uncharacteristic tears. Between this and her dress and the entire 'marriage' thing the scythe meister had had it with the world that had turned its back on her. To think, she had insisted on a _small_ wedding, something meek and subtle. Maybe she and Soul should just go before a judge, sign the document, and be done in a day? Yes that would be best. There was no need to make a show of it. Simple. That's what she wanted.

But simplicity was unheard of in Death City.

Maka blamed Papa. _Entirely. _

Because as soon Spirit caught the _hint _that his daughter was getting married an entire week had been spent in efforts to murder Soul while simultaneously sobbing like a four-year old. His antics were soon put to rest by an irritated Lord Death, who seemed appalled at the idea of a little wedding for one of his favorite scythe meisters. He didn't listen to Maka's pleads, no, he wanted her to have something HUGE and in the best venue one could afford; Shibusen. And not just Shibusen, his very own Death Room. And he, himself, would perform the wedding, because of course, who else? And then the reception could be held in the ballroom with a cake to feed the hundreds of guests to be invited, the band performing would be the one from the country's top 40 chart, the honeymoon in Barbados (Death enthusiastically opened his wallet), and-

Maka pursed her lips, turned on her heel, and left the room.

Making it back to the apartment, she collapsed face first into Soul and grumbled something about him marrying Lord Death and her father and how they should have just _gone to the damn judge _a week previous.

But that was old news, right? At least they had let Maka choose her own _dress. _But aside from that, and the color scheme, she was startled by the effectiveness at how Lord Death, and, much later, her father, had pushed her out of the whole thing. It had exploded into a tsunami of ribbons and tulle and lace doilies. She honestly couldn't even recognize her plans anymore, and was uncertain as to how two grown men were so damn good at predicting what she would love. But her pride was severely wounded, building over months of missions and watching other people plan what they called her "big day".

And the bakery burning down had just been the straw that had broken a stressed camel's back.

She hadn't wanted the fucking cake anyway. But she had the sudden fear that this would set things back, and she wouldn't be able to get this over with and be done. Not the most legitimate fear, no. And compared to fighting Kishins, perhaps she shouldn't have worried so fiercely. But she still allowed her face to pale and her eyes to prickle and her hands to clench and-

'Maka. Check it out.' She whirled around heatedly -intending to either unfairly bite the head off her fiancé or run crying into his arms- but then she remembered why he had left the apartment in the first place. Sigh gently sat her purse on the floor next to the door, eyeing Maka in mild concern for the blonde girl. Too much. TOO MUCH.

Somewhere between blubbering her misery at her friend and wiping snot and tears on her shirt Maka had coerced Sigh into going cake hunting with them. Sigh couldn't remember if she had volunteered; Maka couldn't remember if she had forced her into it. But they knew they had sat on the couch afterwards, Sigh handing her tissues and telling colorful stories of lost lands and magic.

Gazing up over her new plate of sawdust, Sigh watched the bride-to-be. Maka was silent, face trained on the forkful of the latest dish, green eyes somewhat mournful. Soul had ditched earlier, as it soon became clear that –no offense, of course- he was partial to everything they tried. For such a lack of taste Maka dismissed him with a cook book caving into his skull.

Over the years Maka's pigtails had vanished into a high pony at the crown of her head. Her hair, now significantly longer, was braided and resting down her shoulders. The light freckles that had always dotted her face had grown more pronounced, the green of her eyes somehow seeming darker and calmer.

'I enjoyed you letters,' Maka's comment shocked Sigh out of her reverie. A light smile was on the young woman's lips as she continued. 'I was never sure if you got mine…but I'm glad you never stopped writing. It let me know you were okay.' Sigh smiled. 'Well, I'm ecstatic you still thought to send me an invitation! I mean, it's been _five years._ I just assumed our friendship had, I don't know, cooled.' Maka pursed her lips and Sigh tensed, assuming a book was about to come crashing into her head. 'Don't be stupid. I missed you like crazy! You act like you're so dismissible!' Maka huffed,a soft look in her eyes.

'You're my friend,' she said stubbornly, fork stirring the cake samples on her plate. 'And you don't have the right to dismiss yourself from that role.' Sigh hid her smile behind a sip of her water. Of all the people who had written her (and whose letters had conveniently gotten lost) Maka had written to her the most frequently. And each one contained new experiences and joys and challenges. Each one as friendly as the last and commenting on the letters that Sigh had sent. Yes, Sigh still considered them friends; and it was good to know the feeling was mutual.

Thinking of written letters reminded Sigh of other unfinished business she held in the bounds of Death City. She was not yet certain she would be staying long; aside from Maka's wedding, another deciding factor had presented itself in a woven basket of mail, tossed into her face by Madame, years after the start of Sigh's training.

The young woman honestly shouldn't have been surprised when Bibi had sealed her immediately, trapped her in the witches' realm for an undisclosed amount of time. Sigh had bit and she had fought and cussed and screamed but in the end it was for the best. She was afraid of herself, afraid of the madness that had been creeping up on her recently. The harsh, venomous words she had spat, the curses and hexes on the tip of her tongue. The sudden urge to rip and destroy and watch all the little people scurry like ants before her. That wasn't her. That wasn't a Wiccan.

_Djinn._

Sigh could tame this part of her. She knew she could. She had to, if she ever wanted to go home again, if she ever wanted those she loved to be safe around her. She had to be kept apart, at least for the time being, kept clear of mind and with no fear of wounding others. What would happen if she _had _escaped? Did she honestly believe everything could fade back to the way it was? With this strange, chaotic magic licking up her body, her second pair of arms, the drums of the wild in her veins? Would it not be akin to unleashing a wolf into a den of chickens?

This realization ended her rebellion immediately. She collapsed on the floor of Mabaa's castle in a puddle of her own tears.

After a few months of her entrapment, of Bibi's consistent lessons and impromptu skirmishes with witches, Sigh was allowed out. Bibi began abandoning her in the most remote parts of the world.

The Amazon.

Siberia.

The Himalayas.

The Savannah.

All a part of her training, the elder witch claimed (a little too pleased with herself) all a part of Sigh learning not just power but control. She had to survive in each situation for five months on her own, which was easier in some ways than others. More than once she had been in life-threatening situations and faced starvation or dehydration or burning at the stake. It had become clear to her that Bibi meant it when she warned that Sigh would have to do this **on her own**. No matter the situation, the witch never lifted a single finger to help her granddaughter. Sigh had to come prepared by her own two hands and survive similarly. Sigh had to learn her place. What the local mana meant for her particular brand of magic.

There was a bag full of her journals, her notes from her journeys, what she had learned, somewhere in Mabaa's castle. Someday, she would claim it. Perhaps it could be donated to a library.

During her time with Mabaa, contact with those back home was difficult for Sigh. In most cases Madame confessed to never receiving her daughter's letters when she finally got around to writing them. Sigh could only assume it was much the same for her friends back in Death City, if not worse. Bibi's stance on the citizens of that city was pretty clear.

And so Sigh was not surprised when she never received responses from her friends.

It didn't seem right to blame the worm witch tasked with taking the letters. Not if she was ordered to conveniently "lose" them.

Time was of no consequence; it didn't seem to pass in the witch dimension and clocks were hardly available in the Ighbo tribe of Africa. Most of her days were blurs of survival and sleep, brightened when she had the chance to write or learn a new spell. But this was of no concern for her. The mortality of others seemed a distant fact, fading on the horizon like her memories of the American desert and neon lights. But she held onto herself, held onto all that _Sigh_ was. She could not allow herself to become not herself; this whole experience was to stay the same and make sure those around her would not suffer because of it. As Rehema reasserted herself and memories straggled at the edges of her mind, Sigh sewed the pieces together in a tapestry of the soul.

She learned to scry, to remind herself of what she had left behind. Little images of Forbidden Fantasy and Madam, of Death City. Watched people grow and change, allowed herself to weep when Leroy died of a heart attack, laughed happily when Gardenia brought her son in to rehearsal. Black Star accidentally set the library on fire, Fire and Thunder took karate, Patty went steady with a wind spirit.

And Death the Kid…

When Sigh was finally allowed to leave the gaze of Mabaa the elder witch had granted her the strangest look. Leaning in close, she whispered 'Joma Joma Dabarasa. My precious little lioness, you have done so well.' Perhaps a hug was against protocol. The witches surrounding them stiffened. But Mabaa returned the gesture. Something in Sigh seemed to fall into place. She left content.

It would not be the last she would see of Mabaa, most certainly not. Her training had not just been for her own benefit and what that would mean in the future would come to unfold itself soon. But as it was she could go home to see her family, breathe the arid air of a familiar desert, and banish thoughts of destiny and heritage for a moment.

But then she recognized it had been five years.

Frankly, she was surprised any of her friends in Death City would still be her friends. It was one of the first lessons she learned under Mabaa. A lesson brought by the great wizard Prospero, who lost a kingdom for the study of magic.

_Nothing comes without a price._

Was the cost of her magic her friends?

Sigh had shaken her head; surely not. Right?

Yeah. No way.

Maybe?

Honestly, she had been torn on the issue until Madame had passed her a card sent from a certain scythe wielder in Death City.

Maka remembered her! And that must have meant that Sigh's letters, at least some of them, had been getting through, right? And if letters to Maka had made it to their destination, did that mean letters for Kid as well? Did he respond? Sigh leapt upon Madame, startling a defensive attack from the old woman. Madame was in need of a cane after her run in with Djinn, but that didn't mean she was any less quick on her feet. Sigh's black eye did nothing to dim the eagerness in her gaze as she sought information. Aside from the invitation, had she received any mail?

Madame scoffed in annoyance but her eyes were laughing as she pulled out a large, woven basket. In it were a number of free mailers, junk mail, bills Sigh had paid years ago, and magazines with cancelled subscriptions. Several letters from Maka and Tsubaki, a few from Kilik and the twins, two from Soul, one from Black Star (it was covered in dirt). Just as she was allowing disappointment to set in, she came upon an envelope boasting the Death Family crest. It was the only one.

Sigh's breathing stuttered a bit. The post marked date was some time after she had left to live with Mabaa. What could it contain that he had written no more? Her fingers clenched on the letter, eyes darkening. She hadn't been expecting this for a long time, and she most certainly thought it warranted more than _one damn letter. _There was still romance in her heart from all the books she had read, and though she had heard plenty of times from plenty of people that long distance relationships (or whatever she had with Kid) were difficult and possibly impossible, she had stubbornly held onto hope. Now she chastised herself for not being better prepared because the only person she could blame for the painful shattering in her chest was herself. It wasn't Kid's fault; immortal or not, he was still just a man. And men easily lose patience with that which is not directly in front of them.

The backs of her eyes were just beginning to sting when Madame placed a gentle hand on hers.

'Stop fretting,' her characteristic growling was somewhat soothing. 'And open it.' Sigh looked from the letter to her mother and back again, lips pursed. 'Have _you_?' she asked accusingly, even as her fingers slid smoothly between the lip of the envelope and its body. Madame frowned deeper before breaking into a broad grin. It was like watching a fox smile. Sigh glared harder. 'Never mind; that smile tells me everything. How you manage to be both happy and unsettling I'll never understand…' Sigh carefully pulled the solitary piece of paper from the envelope.

Well, no one could ever say Kid wasn't an economist.

The young woman sneered bitterly. She could already feel in her bones that she would be one of _those exes, _the ones that held a grudge for years afterward. But she thought herself entitled; what sort of ass-hat broke up via letter, anyway?

_My Dearest Sigh,_

She raised an eyebrow. Several lines had been crossed out before that opening, like he hadn't been sure to address her. She rolled her eyes, although the action shook a nervous tear free. His hand-writing was as lovely as ever.

_It's been six months, four days, eight hours, twenty-seven minutes, and, as of this moment, forty-three seconds since Madame told me you were trapped with Mabaa. I was angry, am still angry, but you will find a way back if you do not want to be there. I trust that you believe it is for the best. I trust you. But that will not and cannot make me trust _**_them. _**_If I come to find you harmed in any way…perhaps it is wise for me to believe you are well. _

_To be honest, writing a letter like this feels nostalgic; with all the technology and magic of today, I haven't had to write a real letter in decades. But no uninvited magic can make it into the realm of the witch, and I doubt this letter will be received any kinder._

That was true. Sigh was already somewhat of an outcast amongst the other witches because of her lineage; she could only imagine what would happen when they discovered her connection to Kid went deeper than living in his city.

_…I don't know what to say. But perhaps the most direct path is the best?_

Here it comes…

_I dream about you. Your laugh, your warmth, your smell…_

…what?

_That's strange isn't it? Please dismiss it then. However, I cannot bring myself to erase it._

And he hadn't crossed it out. Sigh couldn't tell if he hadn't due to cosmetic issues or... reasons. But she couldn't fault him. How could she? She despised hypocrisy. Her hands tightened on the letter, embarrassment written on her face as she recalled one particular autumn, when the breeze had blown _just right. _The _perfect_ mixture of mystery and chill and crisp, sweet, air had her standing in the open for _hours, __just breathing him in__._

_She grit her teeth and shook her head, earning a raised eyebrow from Madame._

_Time passes differently for us immortals. Before my weapons, I would wake to find a week or month had passed, or I would come home unaware that I had been away for over a year. Our human friends have slowed me down. Made me very aware of all that comes to pass. I believe this to be a good thing, in the end. There is such beauty in the world; now I understand how easily I could have dismissed it in my haste. But at the same time I am aware of the heavy sense of longing, and how it force time to drag._

_ I feel this space between us. The days are like molasses. Words can hardly describe… it's an ironic pity that when I finally sit to write you, I go dumb and mute. This whole letter is clumsy, but it is the best of the ones I have written for you. The floor is littered with its discarded predecessors. You_

Several words were crossed out, others smudged beyond recognition.

_I miss you. I suppose there's nothing more to say then that. Maybe that is why I am at a loss; everything else to be said I must whisper into your hair as we embrace._

Sigh could see where he had tried to cross out the last line and, picturing the embarrassment on his face, she barked a short laugh. This _dork. _This giant-ass _dork._ The corniness of it all was ludicrous! She would have to be an ignorant, romantic, nonsensical, fool to fall into this vat of honey and sugar!

But she couldn't stop the manic grin on her mouth.

_Face to face is better for us, I suppose. No amount of paper or ink could properly express what I feel. And if it's not done properly, then it should not be done at all._

Sigh rolled her eyes.

_Don't roll your eyes, Sigh._

Now the bastard could read her mind. Great. Son of a-

_I'll accept nothing but the best for you. _

_Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnit….it was so goddamned unfair how quickly she was sinking._

_Please continue to write me. I enjoy reading of your training. I do not believe the lapses in time are correct, and I suspect a few of your letters are not making it to me. There's no way of knowing that any of my responses find you. I assume Madame does all that she can…but I doubt that the witches wish for our communication. That makes it all the more precious to me when one of your letters makes it. It lifts me immeasurably. _

The closure note was tricky. It had been crossed out several times, whited over, and written again. He appeared to be writing the same thing, over and over and then, immediately regretting it, moving to correct his perceived error. But the force with which he had been writing betrayed him and though it read

_Yours,_

_Death the Kid_

Sigh's fingers would feel the groves on the back of the paper spelling out a different message.

_I-L-o-v-e-y-o-u_

Her mouth went dry, the words running through her head on repeat.

_I love you._

_I LOVE you._

_LOVE._

She quickly checked the post marked date. The letter was over four years old. "Did…he write anything else?" Madame shook her head slowly, moving to light a cigarette. "No. But you know that, don't you?" They stood in silence for a bit before Sigh spoke. "Can I…have some paper and a pen, please?"

Eight messages to be written, three words each.

_I'm coming home. _

The ninth was somewhat more difficult to write. In between begging him to still be there and scolding him for not writing her more, Sigh settled on simply

_You amazing, stupid, beautiful, man._

_But then she didn't send it._

And now she was here, sitting in a Death City bakery, set up in a Death City hotel, waiting for her best friend's wedding.

His last letter had been written nearly four years ago. It would be unfair to assume he waited for her that long. But other letters had been mentioned…no, if one had made it to Madame, they all should have…right?

'Oh. My. God,' Maka's eyes were wide when Sigh looked at her. 'Eat this.'

'Maka, what-'

'EAT THIS, FOOL.' Whether it was the blonde's raise in tone or her sudden channeling of an ancient sword Sigh was quickly shoving a hunk of cake into her mouth. She chewed pensively, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

'It's…_good. _No…it's _awesome._' Maka nodded enthusiastically. 'Right? _Right?_'

Sigh had to stop being so selfish. This was going to be a landmark in Maka's life; as her friend, the least she could do was help make the meister happy. Her own dramas could wait.

And as she sat in the very back of the ceremony, suppressing her soul as best she could and watching Kid settle into his position as groomsman, she told herself she would woman-up and talk to the young reaper. She was uncertain as to whether he had sensed her presence but, unwilling to cause a scene on today of all days, she had carefully changed her hair to a mild dark brown, her skin lightening to subtle olive, her arms tucked securely into her body. She wondered if he could see her hand in the flowers, how she had added a bit of aura to the room to make them bloom more beautifully. If he could tell she had sprinkled orange blossom water on the runner to keep the mood high, or the careful attention to detail set in the redness of cherry wood pews.

Or perhaps, like the minds of everyone else present, he was wondering where the guests of honor were.

That is, one cannot have a wedding without two people waiting to be wed.

Or someone to wed them. Where the Hell was Lord Death?

'MAAAKKAAAAA! WHYYYYYYY? HAVE YOU ABANDONNED PAPA?' Spirit was sobbing on the floor. His pride was of no consequence as he simply melted into a puddle of unsightly man-goo. Although he was hardly willing to let anyone take this daughter away, he had been looking forward to the wedding as a way to prove to Maka that he was the world's best Papa. But now he would never have the chance, would he? She had abandoned him! Oh woe! WOE!

Spirit spent several annoying seconds on the floor before Sigh's attention was caught by a woman with dark blonde hair and almond shaped eyes, stomping up to him. Something about her demeanor and the way she landed a swift kick to his face, knocking him out, told Sigh this was Maka's mother. She would have to shake the woman's hand later, she decided.

Standing subtly, Sigh edged herself into the hall. She bee-lined for what had been designated as Maka's dressing room, marked by a ringlet of yellow roses on the handle of the door. Perhaps the young woman had cold feet? It seemed incomprehensible in Sigh's mind. Somehow, Maka and Soul seemed like the sort of people who had always been meant to fall into each other. But nerves knew no logic. And this was the woman who had proclaimed for a generous part of her life that men were no good and she never wanted to marry.

'Maka?...'

The room was empty, save for the abandoned bouquet and veil on the vanity. Suddenly nervous, Sigh edged closer, noticing a folded over piece of paper.

_Whoever comes to find me, please let everyone know that Lord Death has married Soul and I already. We are now on our way to Barbados. Sorry. We're just not wedding people. Papa should have listened. Thank everyone for their time though, okay?_

Sigh read the note twice before its meaning hit her. Maka, that minx! Who knew she had it in her to elope?

Sigh had always known Maka had a pair of brass on her, but this spurred a surge of absolute respect in Sigh. She wasn't even made that the preparations had been for naught; in the end she wasn't footing the bill, and now her day was free to eat ice cream and catch up on all the literature she had missed the past few years. There was nothing left to do but go tell everyone they were dismissed. Maybe she should tell them to take some reception food home? It would be a shame to let it go to waste. There was an awful lot of chicken and fish grilling on behalf of this wedding; and Sigh intended to leave with more than a few jumbo shrimp cocktails.

Sigh carefully placed the letter back on the desk, fingers lovingly tracing petals of the bouquet. She had decided that one of Maka's wedding gifts would be the prolonged lives of the delicate red roses, blooms that would survive as long as the love of Maka and Soul. The tricky part had been mingling the dimming aura of the roses with that of their new caretakers. Especially now that Maka and Soul were miles away. But Sigh still had a bit of their auras jumbled up in her mana, grains like sand floating near the bottom. She braided them together and tethered them like roots leading into the flowers.

And it hadn't even needed a spell. The Sigh of five years previous would be impressed.

Basking in the glow of her own success, Sigh nearly jumped out of her skin at the gentle knock on the door she'd left cracked.

'Hello? Are you decent? I'm coming in.' She stiffened, looking around for a exit that wasn't there as the door opened to reveal Death the Kid.

His tuxedo was without a tie -purposefully following a 'casual' theme that was Soul's touch in the wedding- and he wore dark lace-ups instead of dress shoes. The handkerchief in his pocket was the same color red as the roses, and was the only color aside from his eyes and lips. His hair had been stylishly tousled for the occasion, but it was possible to see the growth of the stripes in his hair. He was somehow larger than she remembered, and she wondered how she hadn't felt him coming up the hall.

'Ah, I suppose I was not the only one with this idea then?' He didn't seem to recognize her, and she ran her fingers across her throat in a movement that she made casual.

'No,' she said in a voice that wasn't her own. 'I though perhaps the bride had cold feet.' Kid hummed in dry amusement. 'My fears were far less…innocent, on the part of the bride and groom.' With a wry smile, Sigh lifted the note. 'Your fears are well-founded. They eloped, courtesy of Lord Death.' Kid's eyes stayed trained on her face. 'I see. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. We all should have known something like this would happen.'

'Right.' He took another step forward, scouring her face, and Sigh once again had to resist the urge to move. As his aura swept over her skin she felt goose bumps appear, tingles running up her spine and making her knees weak. But she would not give in, damn it. This wasn't how she wanted to do things; if he discovered now that she had been in town for a week, too cowardly to approach him, she would be humiliated.

'I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met formally. My name is Death the Kid.'

'I'm just an old friend of Maka's.'

'And that's your name?'

'It's fine for the moment.'

'In the future I may need to call your name.'

'In the future you'll have it.'

'The future is now.'

'So late already? I should go.'

At this point he was so close she could see the finer golds in his eyes, his presence superimposing onto hers and making her want to lean into him. She sidestepped and tried to look nonchalant as she rushed for the door. As feared, Kid was faster, the door shutting and his body situated in front of it.

'…that was rude.'

'Rudeness begets rudeness.'

'And I assume you sting bees back when they sting you?'

'You're a bee? More a wasp; you think to leave with your sting.'

'If I'm a wasp, move before I sting _you_.'

'I don't believe that you could harm me.'

'I'd sting you someplace tender.'

'My heart?'

'Your tongue.'

'My tongue? Miss, do you know that a wasp wears her sting in her tail?'

'Are you stupid or do you think I am?'

'You imply to leave here with my tongue in your tail? I'm a gentleman, you know!' Sigh swallowed a smile despite herself. Kid's face was blank, but his eyes danced with amusement.

'Do you think I'm a joke? I'm not an enemy you want.'

'But one I could best.'

'In this field? No.'

'But yes.'

'My eyes spit fire-'

'In close kin to stars-'

'My power, unstoppable-'

'My will, immovable-'

'KID!'

'SIGH!'

Sigh froze, watching the laughter in his eyes harden into something else entirely. She backed away, watching him follow. 'What…what did you call me?' She hadn't noticed he had clasped his hands behind his back until they were freed, finding her hips and pulling her close. As her hands shot forward to steady her she noticed they were back to café au lait, the loose hair in her face violent purple. A familiar soreness made itself known as her secondary arms appeared. She must have lost concentration on her spell. 'You heard me, _Psyche_.' He leaned in close, his breath on her face and his eyes hooded. 'Is this a game, to you?' His hand snaked up her body, wrapping in her hair and drawing her head back. 'Hiding from me? Watching me feel for you?'

Once she was sure she wouldn't stutter, Sigh responded, attempting to save her pride. 'Depends. What is it to you?' He chuckled into her throat. 'Sometimes, you are just so _terrible, _Psyche. I don't think you know how terrible you are.' Sigh swallowed. 'I didn't want…I didn't want…'

He kissed her with such force she would've fallen backwards if not for his hands on her, keeping her close. She clenched her fingers in his tuxedo jacket and wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing him closer and breathing him in. There was a growl in his throat as her lips parted, arms lifting her until she had to wrap her legs around his waist. Was it a sin to have missed this? If it wasn't, why did it feel so damn good?

As their wavelengths meshed, the force blew the bulb above their heads, friction spiking their hair and a thrum of mana pulsing through their bodies. Tendrils of shadow interlaced with incandescent ivy, Sigh's shoe fell to the ground as he hefted her to sit on the vanity, nearly knocking over the bouquet and crushing the note. Their lips partly briefly, giving her time to lift herself high enough to press a kiss to his forehead. She gently kissed every part of his face, softly murmuring in Swahili as she went. To her pleasure, he responded in kind, hands running up and down her sides as the wanton abandon in his voice matched hers.

When their lips next met the kiss was less frantic but twice as _hungry,_ Sigh moaning in helpless desire as his aura licked up her spine and his soul ground against hers. A hand slid up her body, gently cupping one of her breasts as her fingers rested at the base of his spine. She pulled away to look him in the eyes, panting as she watched him run his tongue over his lips. 'Kid, I-'

The door slammed open and they froze.

'Sigh, Love,' Kid muttered into her face. 'Please tell me my father is not standing behind me, glaring holes into my body. I would be grateful if you could confirm that this is not the case.' Sigh stared at Lord Death's mask through saucer eyes, trying to shrink behind Kid's body. He was of average height, but she couldn't quite see his eyes through his mask. 'Well, I'm not sure if he's glaring, but-'

'_Absolutely. Not.' _Sigh flinched, having never been privy to Lord Death's 'real' voice before. From the folds of his billowing cloak he pulled what looked like a spray bottle, not hesitating to shoot his son in the side of the face.

Oh. It _was _a spray bottle.

'Bad, Kiddo! That's a very bad Kiddo!' Kid yanked his hands from Sigh to attempt to shield himself from his father's wrath. Sigh straightened her clothes, watching as Kid shrank back, cowed. 'How _dare _you? Did I not raise you correctly? Accosting a young lady in such a manner! Honestly! _BAD KIDDO!_' A finger shot out of the cloak, pointing at Sigh and causing her to jump.

'If you are sincere in your interest in Miss Psyche you will court her respectfully and _appropriately_! You will not _attack _her like some sort of starved animal! You are a gentleman! Act like one!' The older reaper huffed before turning his attention fully to Sigh. 'I do apologize, Miss Sigh. It would appear as though my son has forgotten himself.' Sigh shook her head, but before she could speak Kid's shock wore off. 'Father-' Lord Death shot him in the eyes without even looking at him, ignoring his cries of pain.

'…Lord Death, if I may ask, what's in that bottle?'

'You're such a polite young lady, Miss Sigh! Of course I'll answer. It's just water and lemon juice. Nothing special.' Oh. Of course. Sigh smiled trying desperately not to laugh at Kid's expense. She accepted Lord Death's hand as he offered it, pushing herself off the edge of the vanity and dusting off her dress in what she hoped was a classy manner. 'Now, we have a wedding party to disband and a reception to clean up. I apologize for the inconvenience; perhaps I should have known of Maka's discomfort earlier. But it is of no consequence now.' Sigh nodded in understanding, encouraging Lord Death to continue. 'I would also be interested in how long you intend to stay in my city. And why. As nice as it is to see you again, someone like you cannot be allowed free reign here, I am sorry to say.'

Sigh pursed her lips, suddenly afraid. 'I understand. But I've been working very hard. It's not-'

'I know.' Hearing the smile in Lord Death's voice calmed Sigh a bit. 'But your life and role is forever changed, as the named heir of Mabaa. Things can and get grow complicated as your relationship with Kiddo is made public.' Sigh's eyes narrowed. 'I recognize that. But how did you know that Bibi has named me her heir?' Lord Death gathered his shadows about him, once again standing tall and imposing. 'I am Death. I have my ways. We will talk after we clear my death room. And get some cake and shrimp. Let us be off. There is much to discuss, and this bottle only hold so much.'


	2. Chapter 2

**BB says: **Hey guys! Updates are lagging because I'm an officially working on my Senior thesis for school! And my internship! And I'm working fulltime now! Woot! Excitement! Drama! So much stress! THIS IS HOW I DIE.

"'So, what would you like to do next?' Lord Death's words caught Sigh off guard, and she paused in her pulling of the ribbon from the lattice archway. There was glitter on her ratty worker jeans, a rose petal in her hair, a light sheen of laborious sweat glossing her face. She was teetering on a step ladder -one foot grounded for support, the other recklessly suspended to the side for balance- and had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the furthermost corner. After this and the removal of the pews they could say the Death Room, and Shibusen in general, was officially back to normal. As normal as such things could be, of course. It had taken Sigh all morning, starting from the early hour of seven all the way to nearly one.

Lord Death sat at a mysteriously appearing kotatsu, mask pushed to the side of his face as he sipped green tea. He had called Sigh personally to assist in what he dubbed the 'defestivization' (Sigh was pretty sure that wasn't a word, but chose to pick her battles) of the Death Room, and she had complied a bit warily. Although she was glad to help, it was rather frustrating that he had not asked _anyone else _and chose not to assist himself. He had been conducting business in all the tulle and lace for a week now, and she couldn't understand why he chose today of all days to suddenly have had his fill.

Perhaps he enjoyed the novelty of it? The break in normality? Sigh supposed one had to make their own entertainment, at times.

Lord Death sat at that darn kotatsu the entire time, nibbling biscuits, strumming a ukulele, and napping. Workers and teachers from around the school came and went with paperwork and messages; Lord Death moved with impossible grace in the re-placement and removal of his mask when a guest arrived and departed. He and Sigh were actually alone in the room for most of the day; Death Scythe had ventured to his favorite…shall it be called a café?

'What do you mean?'

'Well, you're almost done here and you hardly seem keen on using your magic in front of me.' Sigh huffed, stepping from the ladder with the ripped ribbon in her hand and a pout on her face. 'If you wanted to see my magic you could've just asked.'

'I didn't want to embarrass you.'

'And you consider this to be easier?'

'Well, I know you enjoy the pensive nature of mindless work.' Sigh screwed up her mouth to fight a smile, because the crumb-butt reaper was right. 'I stand by my offer, Lord Death, if you want to see me slinging magic, please just ask me directly.' Lord Death took a noisy slurp of his tea before responding. 'There's no need for you to show off on my behalf. I would hate to inconvenience you.' Sigh narrowed her eyes. 'Yes, well, I did just take down the decorations from an _entire school. _How could you possibly inconvenience me now?'

'Questioning your motives.' Sigh opened and shut her mouth, unsure of what he meant and thusly unsure of how to respond. 'Someday, you will be Mistress,' Lord Death continued, dismissing Sigh's discomfort. 'Of the witches and their kin. In your veins strums the power of ordered chaos and unknown unknowns. Co-mingled and blurred. Can I be judged for wanted to be sure you had not forgotten where you came from and who you were?'

The ribbon was fraying at the ends but Sigh tied it into a messy knot. The length of it fit rather snuggly into the corner of the final box of decorations, and the material still smelled vaguely of people and joy. Gently pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, Sigh closed the box with a caress, wishing the fond memories a long life. The motion resulted in a shallow cardboard cut on the tip of her ring finger, a little dot of blood marring the surface.

'Having me take down tulle,' she watching red run down her hand 'tells you nothing of who I am.'

'You did it the difficult way. Physically, rather than magically. You could have saved yourself hours of labor but you preferred to work with your hands, down on your knees. You'd be surprised what that shows in one's personality.'

'Masochism?'

'You are not above basic task. Anything you dictate to others, anything you request, it is certain you yourself have done in the past or would be willing to do. There is no mud-mucking effort for those you work with that you are unwilling to lead them in, unwilling to roll up your sleeves and get filthy with them. If that is not the foundation of leadership, my dear, nothing is.

Embarrassed, Sigh shook her head. 'You're just…you're seeing stuff that isn't there. I did it the hard way because that is what I'm used to. It's how I know it'll be done _right._'

'Honestly, Psyche, you've been practicing your skill for five years and you don't think you can accomplish magic enough to take down ribbon?'

'I've practiced magic for five but physical actions for twenty. That doesn't make me ready to lead an entire people. It doesn't mean-' Sigh groaned, rubbing her eyes. 'I've changed, overtime, but I'm not _that _different_. _Allure hardly ever effects people but I have yet to figure a way to completely remove the spell. I can read aura more clearly but I am ever-weary of taking too much and hurting someone.' She snorted and shook her head. 'Up until a few years ago I never really thought about what to do with myself. I mean, purpose? Reason for being? I had a room in an attic. My world wasn't much more than that. And now…now it seems to be the only thing anyone cares about anymore is what sort of…sort of project I'm turning into. I never wanted to be grand. I never wanted to be _special. _I just want to continue to be me, to continue to be Sigh. I'm still…_lonely, _sometimes. Lonelier still when I wonder what I am and how long I'll live. How long those close to me will live in comparison, and how long I will remember how to love life afterwards-'

'Ah, love,' Lord Death's voice held a tone of humor. 'You know this, even as you are?' Sigh fought her own hesitation.

Love is a difficult thing, isn't it?

Terrible and compressing. Years ago she had known love in the form of a warm blanket and a good book, of laughter in the back halls of a music room and wrinkled hands smelling of perfume and tobacco. Years ago love had been cheesy romance movies and comic book flings, kisses from dogs and the extra roll on her plate from the head chef in a back kitchen. Love had been something she could point to and name, with a smile, warily teetering between reality and the candied clouds of fantasy.

Strange how people change. Her mind and soul felt older, somehow, and love's enigmatic nature eluded her more than ever. She still knew its face like she knew her own, but there were several schizophrenic personalities within, facets she understood were incomprehensible. To complicate things further, the ball of what she could once call love, something she had nourished and fed with undeveloped hopes and dreams was now burning hot and cutting. Heated metal and broken glass. She liked it, in all its painful beauty, but was all too aware of her new skin's urge to purge it from her flesh and be done with the ordeal. She wondered if this was the alleged wisdom of immortals. If this was how they felt _all the time, _from the day they were born. Perhaps she had been lucky, able to live without such a burden for part of her life.

'Of course,' Sigh casually walked over to sit across from Lord Death at the kotatsu. A cup of tea was waiting for her, steam curling from the top. 'It's engrained in me deeper than my name. "Love" is my mother and my girls back at Forbidden Fantasy. My friends. Those who suffer, those who have felt loss, those who cry and pray and scream. Dreams and desires, empty wishes and thoughtless endeavors, selfish-' the glow from her hair distracted Sigh for a moment and, embarrassed, she sipped at her tea to silence herself. This was happening a lot lately, like the voices of all the auras surrounding her were a bit too much at times. The consciousness of the entire world meshed into a single wavelength. Whispering. Tugging. Wishing.

'Lord Death,' Sigh murmured. His green eyes zeroed in on her in that strange, beautiful, unsettling way that they had, a little smile playing on his lips. 'Yes, Dear?' She rolled her eyes at the endearment. It seemed a bit forced.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

'Are we gods?' The reaper made a face before responding. 'Ah, that is the question, isn't it? Certainly one that has plagued us for millennia now.' A biscuit teetered between two thin white fingers. 'Godhood is not something that can be decided as simply as a unanimous agreement. One does not vote on who to make a god and who to make worshipers. Are we powerful? Certainly. More powerful than man. But do we stem all from one world? One place? One origin story? Yes. Perhaps. Who can say? And if you cannot say, how can you say we are gods, those made to be in control of the fate of this world? That we are born to a higher purpose and of a higher plane?

Perhaps one could argue that immortals are even _younger_ than mankind, that there was no need for us before there was them. Apes turned to men, men learned to dream and to love and to hate. To wage war and to battle death. To push their natural limitations. So we, avatars of the complexity of the mind and the soul, were created to keep the world spinning. To keep it from tearing itself asunder beneath the weight of its own glorious chaos. Nature cherishes a sort of wrathful _balance, _you see, so no one thing can ever completely overtake another without losing its own definition. Nature made man, made a creature destined for such intricacies and depth that it in turn could create beings to manage the way things were meant to be. Perhaps men created immortals, unconsciously, created us from the need to be led, to ensure the stability of one's path.

Man created gods but we are flawed. The definition of "god" in recent years is all-seeing, all-knowing, and impossibly wise. But the truth is, if man made gods, he made them flawed so that beyond all lines of worship they could still be called jealous beings, angry beings, lustful, hateful, piteous beings. Man created gods and then dragged them down to wallow with them in the mud so that they could understand one other and appreciate the fact that without one, the other would fall into the abyss.

So then yes, perhaps we are gods. But not in the sense that we are perfect, or that we are all there is to this world. But in the fact that our rages are _deadly, _our whims _dangerous, _and our morals without judgement save for from those who can force justice upon us. And personally, I do not believe that makes us all that different from mankind.' Sigh was speechless, hand frozen around her cup of tea. Lord Death blinked, the warmth slowly coming back into his eyes and the shadows receding from their slow approach.

'This is only one side, of course. Needless to say, there are several views on this account and none are particularly "good" or "bad". The only side I'd say to be wary of would be that of those who not only believe us to be gods, but believe that fact is worth killing and dying for. They come to have a certain standard for us, and when we do not adhere to it they tend to lash out. They're fertile grounds for madness.

But you're your own woman, Psyche, and though I trust you to choose wisely in your beliefs, you are free from my judgement.' Death's attention went to a stack of paperwork Sigh hadn't noticed. As she took a sip of her tea she noticed her hand was shaking. How easily she forgot to whom she spoke, and how old he truly was. How long had he spent pondering the questions that had only recently begun to keep her up at night?

'I'd say you've put in enough work for today, Sigh,' Sigh looked up from her cup, hoping her sudden revelation didn't force her gaze to speak of fear. 'I'm sure you have other things to occupy your time. And the defestization of the Death Room has gone even better than I could ever have dreamed. So go take the rest of the day for yourself. Get resettled into the city; I believe you'll be here for quite some time, yet.' And though Sigh made to disagree, her tongue couldn't bring itself to speak a perceived lie. She was _home _here, now, and she couldn't imagine it being any other way. In fact, she did have an appointment to tour the leasing process at a new apartment complex; she had no concrete job yet, but it was something to look forward to and her savings were more than enough to keep her comfortable for a few months. 'Right. Thank you Lord Death.'

'You're quite welcome. It's no trouble. On a side note, I believe I may have a position for you on staff here at the school. Our head librarian has been looking for an assistant for quite some time now and I think now is as good a time as any to humor him. I hired him because he was a bit of an odd duck but Kid seems to think a lack of human interaction is getting to the old man. Kid has acquired the strangest habit regarding the people in the school. Little changes, here and there, tweaks to the program. It's dismissible, really.' Lord Death slid an unmarked folder towards Sigh with his finger.

'If you care to know, you'll find my silly boy on the roof of the school, brooding. It's a favorite spot of his. I don't know what is with that boy and high places…am I rambling? I seem to be doing that a lot lately.'

'No sir.'

'Ah, very good.' Sigh made to dismiss herself. She was ashamed to say she nearly bolted for the door, halted only when Lord Death called her once more. 'Oh, and Psyche?' She didn't bother turning around, hands clasped on the belt of her bag. 'You don't need to change to be a marvelous leader. I believe it's something you've always been capable of.'

Sigh did indeed find Death the Kid lounging behind a large air vent on the roof. When Lord Death had first mentioned his son's fondness of the top of the school, Sigh had assumed Kid would be leaning on the railing, wind dramatically tousling his hair as he gazed out over the exact center of the city. But that image was flawed at its core; the center of the school faced its legion of steps, inhibiting the view of the city to the north. That direction was predominantly residences anyway, with apartments and side stores. Off to the sides of the Shibusen, depending on where one cast their gaze, there was the market district, the historical district, and the slums to the east, south, and west, respectively. The school was truly the center of the city.

Many did not recognize the true beauty that lie in the structure of Death City. Upon a massive hill sat the school, and the varying districts echoed out like ripples in a lake, evenly scattered off the epicenter and reflective of the buildings on the other side. Although each construct came to hold its own charm, the zoning and the architecture prevented far deviation from design; whether it was intended or not. Some would be tempted to say that, given the age of the school and the species of its master, the arrangement of the city was no surprise. It is easy to say that Death the Kid's focus on symmetry bordered on organized madness, but bilateral symmetry is one of the most orderly systems of organization known to the universe. Though one must never allow themselves to fall so deep into an obsession to become mad, it logical for the masters of order to adore the highest forms of order. Simply put, Lord Death perhaps loved symmetry as much as his son; but was far better at containing himself.

Today, Death the Kid cast his gaze upon the market place, bustling this time of the day and the wind carrying the heavy noise of venders and hustlers. Street vending was a dated occupation but added to the historical charm of the district. Merchants on the street needed to compete with the chains that had slowly weaseled into their ranks, but city zoning had done a marvelous job of keep them from overtaking the 'ma and pops' of Death City. After all, the city wouldn't be complete if one couldn't buy a sketchy looking fish from a sketchier looking man on the street.

Death the Kid wore a dark grey vest and matching slacks, black and grey shoes crossed as he leaned back against the stone of the school. He had found the perfect position where the spires did not inhibit his view of the city and yet he was nearly completely hidden from those below. He did not rely on the safety railings –not that Sigh thought a drop from this height would do much more than annoy him- and one arm was pinned beneath his body like he was siphoning warmth from the school.

Although Sigh had been made aware of him from the moment she entered the east wing of Shibusen -his aura crept the edges of the hall and gently licked at her ankles- he seemed genuinely startled by her appearance. The cigarette dangling from his lips jerked with his surprise, the cherry bobbing as he turned to face her.

They had not seen much of each other this past week, as Madame had come to stay with Sigh in her hotel. The old woman had aggressively insisted that they spend their time making up for their years apart. Sigh had agreed whole heartedly. It is difficult to understand the level of homesickness one can face until confronted with what was left behind. Sigh could hardly comprehend how slowly Madame seemed to move, or the creaking of her knees. She felt small and fragile under Sigh's hands, now, and when Sigh had caught Madame taking blood pressure pills the younger had almost started crying. Madame had nearly beaten Sigh on the train platform to get her to stop sobbing into her blouse.

_'You fucking moron, you act like I'm **dying.**_'

'If I were an enemy, you would be dead,' Sigh spoke dryly, moving to sit on the edge of the school and tossing her legs between the bars of the railing. After a moment Kid slid beside her. His hand had come to hover in front of his cigarette -like he was guilty for being caught with it- although a smirk hinted at the edge of his lips. 'If you were my enemy,' he drawled, taking the death stick from the grip between his teeth. 'You would have been dead before making it this far.' Sigh clucked her tongue. 'You would beat me while wearing…are those spats?' Pride glinted in Kid's eyes. 'Authentic ones, made in 1925.'

'…Jesus, you're _old._'

'_We're _old, Psyche.'

They sat in silence for a moment, smoke gently curling into the sky. Eventually Kid burned to the filter and moved to light another. He paused, hesitation marring his actions as his gaze flickered from Sigh to his cigarette. With a huff, the young woman snatched it from his mouth, settling it between her lips before lighting it with a tip of white hot mana on her finger.

'I'll never understand what you and Madame see in these things,' she murmured, taking a shallow drag. 'They used to make my food taste funny and my clothes smell bad. I was gluttonous and vain enough to quit just for that.' Kid chuckled a bit, sunny eyes focused on where the cigarette met her lips. 'I feel there may be a lot of truth to that story.' His eyes darkened a bit before he gently tugged the stick away from her. 'Although, truthfully, I would hope you'd be more focused on your health than that. These things will be the death of you if you let them.'

'And you?'

'I am impervious to man's poisons.'

'I doubt I need to worry about nicotine either.'

'Just in case…'

'Oh, _honestly._'

Just to prove a point, Sigh moved to take the cigarette from the reaper. He jerked but instead of moving away he startled her by bringing his unoccupied hand to her face. Gently, he used the pad of his thumb to rub a bit of glitter from her face. 'How was your talk with my father?' She narrowed her eyes, stiffening. 'You were eavesdropping?' Kid hummed, dry humor in his voice when he next spoke. 'No…not quite. I saw you enter the school with a purpose. And your soul is a bit tumulus. My father can have that effect on people.' Sigh shook her head, moving away from his hand. 'It's not your dad's fault. It's mine. Ask a stupid question…' Kid's brow wrinkled. 'A stupid question?'

'…I don't know.' Sigh rubbed at a crick in her neck, rolling her eyes. 'What are we doing, Kid?' The wrinkle between his eyes deepened into a confused frown. 'We're sitting on top of Shibusen making idle chatter.' Sigh rolled her eyes at him. 'You know what I mean. Why am I still here?' Kid huffed as though she was being terribly difficult. 'You're here because…because we're working on being together?'

'Asking me or telling me?'

'…these plans would require both of us, I suppose.' Sigh threw up her hands in frustration. 'Exactly! It requires both of us –or at least _one _of us- to be vaguely aware of what we're doing, right? But I've never felt anything like this ever before and I don't know what this means for you or for me or for the people around us.' She scrubbed her face in irritation. 'I mean, it would be way different if we were just some dumb kids experimenting. But you're all you and Reaper-ish with a station so high I'm only _just now _starting to fathom your duties and powers and I'm some strange hybrid who's been wandering the world for decades in search of a destiny I didn't even know I had. So now what? Has it ever occurred to you how strange this is? How weird we are?

What if we get _married, _Kid? What if we do something so stupid as to pile a whole bunch of witches and a whole bunch of reapers and a whole bunch of randomized immortals all into one room? Do you really think we'll get past the bridal march without my mom starting a fire or some witch trying to blow everything up? Reigniting a war that supposedly 'ended' with the defeat of the kishin? My grandmother expects me to take up the reins of leading the witches but lord only knows it'll be a cold day in Hell before they tolerate a Grand Witch who's married to a reaper. And a practicing wiccan too? HOO BOY.

There are so many implications and complications to _everything_ we do! I know you know it too! Despite everything, despite the fact that we both know of the consequences of our…_togetherness_ the only thing I can think of is how good you look in your fancy outfits and how warm you can make me. How I missed you so much these past few years and how it just doesn't seem possible for me to walk away anymore. And I hate feeling this way, because despite all my hard work and all my studying and everything I'd like to think I've become, I feel self and naïve because I refuse to think of anything aside from myself and you. I just…I don't know, Kid. And not knowing is _killing me. _Do we even have a future? Should we even _try?_'

Sigh hadn't known how upset she truly was until she had started talking, tightness compounding in her throat. They weren't just some human adults trying to be human together. They were strong –almost too strong- and together they could get even stronger. Could she do that to the world? Could she-

His eyes were hard and beautiful as he looked at her, yellow diamonds watching her soul. She could see from the way he was sitting that her words were grating on him, but he had made no attempts to speak until the end.

'You make valid points, Psyche.' She narrowed her eyes. 'I know I do!' she snarled. 'Why do you think I'm scared? I can't think of a way out!' He reached for her, and though she thought to pull away she was cemented in place by the feel of his aura on her back. It had only taken a few moments of his recognizing her for the behemoth to return to old habits; currently it was wrapping itself about her waist and knitting into her hair, draping itself like a shawl about her shoulders. Death the Kid placed his hand on the small of her back, drawing her closer.

'…I'm glad you're scared,' she made to snap at him again but he didn't give her the chance 'because I'm scared, too.' He smiled humorlessly. 'If you would like, we could continue to be foolish, together. Continue to bumble around and make a selfish mess of things, a mess I would gladly commit to if it meant you would go with me. If it meant I could live my life, knowing you stood beside me. Then no disaster, of our own creation or otherwise, feels like it could challenge us. I'm afraid. You're afraid. But our fear makes us strong. Because it means we anticipate a fight. And if we can anticipate it, we can win.'

Sigh frowned. '…I won't be comforted by words alone.'

'And you shouldn't be. There are too many factors to consider. Too much we're leaving to chance.' He was stupidly honest; the least he could do was lie to her.

'…I confess, your earnestness is so damn _adorable._' Sigh grouched, watching his face move closer to hers.

'…are you going to kiss me?' Kid paused, blinking. 'I was thinking of it, yes.'

'There's hardly enough room up here for it to end up like last time.' Kid's eyes narrowed in confused before realization hit him, pink arching across his cheeks. 'Well…I…that was _different. _I hadn't seen you in a long time and...before you left we had just determined that perhaps we were ready to do something about this mutual feeling between us…and all I could think was how good it felt to hold you and see your soul and…I suppose I lost control of the situation…' Sigh chuckled at his fluster. He frowned at her amusement but his eyes were mischievous.

'I've actually taken my father's words to heart. I would like to voice my intent to court you, Psyche LaBelle Éclair.' She narrowed her eyes as his face straightened. 'Wait, are you serious?'

'Yes. I've already sent a letter to your mother concerning the matter. She has granted me her blessing…or what I will consider to be her blessing. Begrudging though it may be.' Sigh blinked. 'This isn't a _Pride and Prejudice _romance_, _Kid. I think that was a bit unnecessary.' He smiled at her warmly. 'You know, what people today think of as mere Victorian romance was my reality, as a child.' He brought her hand to his lips and Sigh felt heat rise to her face. 'Courtship is a lost art that is underappreciated these days. But you are a woman worth courting and I intend to make you appreciate how lovely your presence is.' Giddiness had Sigh returning his smile and lifting her unoccupied hand to his face. As she pulled closer to him, she felt the spring of an electric aura standing out from the others.

'Black Star! Stop it! You know how Kid feels about you being up there!' Kid stiffened and turned abruptly, Sigh almost colliding with his shoulder. They hadn't been noticed yet, all attention focused on the main school building's center skull. A certain assassin was perched on the center spike. Blood dripped down his face, oozing from an unseen wound beneath his electric blue hair. His clothes were torn in several places and the bruises mottling his skin were vibrant beneath. He looked filthy, like he had been tussling in the dust for several days.

'Honestly, what's gotten into you? You vanish for an entire week and you come back like this? Don't I get an explanation?' Normally, the assassin would have a manic grin on his face following a mission, declaring his pride to the entire world. Normally, his peacocking would be met with a book to the skull or a kick to the jaw, depending on which of his close friends called upon themselves to shut him up. Not today. There was no toothy smile today, only a look of solid contemplation, his green eyes conflicted.

'It's where I belong! Among the gods!' It was possible to see the vague exasperation on Tsubaki's face in response.

'That's not the explanation I meant! Where were you? I was worried! There were so many rumors!'

'You shouldn't listen to the stories of petty mortals!'

'How like Black Star to instigate a domestic squabble on top of my school,' Kid mumbled agitatedly. Sigh nodded shallowly, focusing on the hand Black Star was keeping in his pocket.

'That's not fair! Their stories were the only logic I could find to lean on!'

'LEAN ON ME. I'll never let you down! You know that!'

'You weren't here! YOU LEFT ME! What was I supposed to do?'

'Have faith in me! I'll always come back for you! ALWAYS. I just had somethin' to do, somethin' only a warrior god like me could accomplish!'

'What is so damn important that you didn't want me by your side?' Tears were streaming down Tsubaki's face. 'You've been so cold lately! I just thought…I thought…I thought you were done with me for good!' Black Star grit his teeth.

'No other weapon is worthy of a star like me! I don't want anyone else by my side!' Black Star pulled his hand from his pocket, and Sigh felt Kid tense up. 'Tsubaki! BE THE BRIDE OF A GOD!'

'…Oh, my,' Kid breathed. Sigh couldn't agree more. She watched Tsubaki open and shut her mouth, the redness of upset in her face draining all at once and her lips quivering. Without a word, she turned on her heel and _ran._

Sigh pursed her lips.

'Are Maka and Soul back from their honeymoon, Kid?'

'They're not due back for another two days.' Sigh cursed under her breath. 'Okay. We've got this. Totally got this. You go talk to him, I'll go talk to her.' Kid frowned in irritation. 'Of course I'll _talk _to the insufferable Blue Idiot.' Sigh didn't respond as she pulled herself up and over the railing, allowing gravity to take her down. Drifting to the ground on an incandescent raffia palm leaf Sigh took off running behind Tsubaki. She heard Kid raise his voice, the cracking of plaster and stone, and the slap of skin on skin. The ground rumbled as something heavy fell. It was safe to assume Kid had already gotten to 'talking' to his blue haired friend.

Tsubaki led Sigh down the stairs and into the city, dodging citizens and curious glances. 'Tsubaki! Tsubaki, wait!' Sigh had to keep in mind she was chasing a kunoichi. Any moment now she shouldn't be surprised if the demon weapon leapt through an open window or onto a banister, some hardcore Parkour shit that honestly, Sigh knew she wouldn't be able to keep up with. 'Tsubaki I know you're embarrassed! Black Star wasn't thinking! I'm sure he meant well!' What little she knew of the assassin's character suggested that this was too often the case, actually.

Tsubaki took a running leap onto the second balcony of a three story building, sprinting along the railing and disappearing around the side. Sigh invoked the caustic curses of Madame as she snatched a broom from where it had been resting against a fence, settled it between her legs and took flight in one fluid motion.

Tsubaki leapt from building to building, her movements tense and lacking her usual grace. She seemed to be more concerned with putting distance between herself and her pursuer than with where she was going, as she was heading the exact opposite direction of her hotel. She and Black Star were in town for Maka's wedding, and had stayed all week for the Death Weapon meeting that was to take place the following Monday. It had given the pair in charge of East Asia time to rest in an old familiar city, to grow reacquainted with old hangouts. They could have spent the week relaxing.

How silly to think that Black Star could ever 'relax'.

Tsubaki had been alone in the hotel for days, now. She had filled empty hours fretting over the possible fate of her meister and filling her head with conjecture. She had wept over possibilities and pleaded with Lord Death to form a search party. But the rule at Shibusen was that aside from special circumstances, missing persons were not identified as such for five days. And on the fifth day, Black Star proposed.

The quivering and thrumming of Tsubaki's aura marked her wild distress as she scrambled for freedom. Her distraction proved dangerous as her foot lost purchase and she slipped. Sigh dipped her broom into a nose dive, hand lashing forward and catching Tsubaki unceremoniously, before she could hit the ground.

The young woman had shaking white fingers pinned to her eyes as she lay in Sigh's arms, tears dripping down her cheeks. 'Please leave me alone,' she mumbled. Sigh pulled back into the sky, turning them around and heading toward her hotel. The Wiccan rolled her eyes with a huff. 'Oh, whatever, Tsubaki. And where were you running to?' The kunoichi shook her head. 'I…don't know.' Sigh's nostrils flared with a silent moan. Honestly, what now? It wasn't like she was particularly close to Tsubaki. They were primarily friends by extension, mutual friends of a friend. Tsubaki had been kind enough to send her letters but that was most likely at the prompting of Maka. Tsubaki was too polite to simply ignore Sigh's absence.

Despite her uncertainty regarding Tsubaki, Sigh had seen the humiliation on the other woman's face, and, what's more, the absolute panic and dread. She knew there was more to this story, and it wasn't something the kunoichi could run from. The djinn part of Sigh could feel the desire in the young woman, and the desperation that accompanied it. But she couldn't pinpoint from where is stemmed. Even in all her ignorance, she knew Tsubaki and Black Star had had some form of a relationship for years now. It was just a fact of life, something that was so grippingly obvious a stranger could pass them on the street and be absolutely certain how much the two meant to one another.

Sigh wanted to make their wish come true.

That was why they now sat on Sigh's bed, sipping at tea from a hotplate, something with lavender, licorice, and chamomile to calm their nerves. The hotel she had shacked up in was not the best in Death City, but it had clean rooms and a friendly staff, and Sigh was comfortable there. She was almost didn't want to pin down an apartment; the commitment seemed monumental when compared to the startling turns of her life recently. What if Bibi could appeared out of nowhere and whisked her away again (as Sigh secretly feared)?

'Do you know my name?' Sigh was snatched from her reverie by Tsubaki's voice. It was firmer after the tea, but she still spoke low, almond eyes fixed on her toes. 'Of course I do. Nakatsukasa Tsubaki.' Tsubaki nodded.

'Nakatsukasa Tsubaki, of the Nakatsukasa clan. The child born with the prized ability to become many weapons while still remaining one. The prized child, the one meant to be bred to bring more honor to the clan.' Sigh did not like where this was going. 'The man she marries must be deemed worthy of her family, he himself must be only of the highest breeding and marks. Anything less would be dishonor too great to name.' Tsubaki's eyes were distant as she spoke.

'The Nakatsukasa clan cannot run the risk of sullying their blood, of losing a gift that has earned them respect across Japan. Especially now that they only have one child left to grant the family an heir. They cannot be faulty for being weary. For being ever vigilant in who is allowed into their family.' Sigh frowned, daring to reach out to touch Tsubaki's arm. 'This almost sounds like one of those lame movies with arranged marriages.' Sigh spoke in jest, but the young woman beside her stiffened. 'I mean, it's not like your parents arranged anything for you…right?' Tsubaki bit her lip as though to stop the quivering.

'His name is Samurakami Akihiro. His family is mostly composed of demon katanas. We're not…_betrothed _yet, but my parents have been talking to his for the past few years. I'm not getting any younger,' Tsubaki smiled a watery smile. 'And who wants an old woman bride? Akihiro is a sweet, kind, man. He's smart and he's not bad looking-'

'Tsubaki,' this entire conversation was beginning to make Sigh's heart ache. 'You don't have to do this. What about Black Star? What about-'

'Akihiro has someone, too. He told me about her. Her name is Aoi. Apparently she is very beautiful. Akihiro and I, we have an understanding, you see. We both have the ones we love but we…but we both understand our reality-'

'NO.' Sigh stood grabbing both of Tsubaki's hands in an effort to make her look up. The half full cup of tea clattered to the ground. 'That's some _bullshit. _Some backwards ignorant BULLSHIT! You don't have to do this! You're a person! You're-'

'Humans have been doing this for thousands of years, Sigh-san.' Tsubaki allowed a tear to roll down her face. 'Arranged marriages, marriages of convenience and monetary gain. This whole idea of marrying for love, for whimsy, that's all _brand new._ Where did it even come from? Ask Kid. Maybe he saw it take over? This western thought, this _American _thought that everyone can do anything for any reason.' Tsubaki gently freed her hands from Sigh's grasp, her tear filled eyes hard. 'This belief that you can judge tradition. That not only is your way the best, but you deserve to tear apart anything you deem unworthy? This selfish idea that your singular happiness, your singular perusal of your dreams is somehow worth more than the love and hope of your family?

You have lost the idea of honor for the dream of the individual. I can respect that, see the logic of it, but I ask that you see the logic of this as well.' Tsubaki stood. 'I love Black Star. I love him with all my heart and my parents enjoy his company as one of my friends. If things had been different…but they're not. And Black Star knows that. Why he's doing this…I really can't say. But he knows. We both know.' Tsubaki was at the door before Sigh could stop her. She wiped her tears roughly from her face and when she turned to Sigh her smile was strained but her face was dry and clear. 'Thank you, Sigh-san. I can tell that you're a good person, and that you just want your friends to be happy. But it's okay. I'm okay.' And she was gone.

Sigh sat on the edge of her bed, watching tea soak into the carpet. With a huff, she fell to her side and lay for a bit. Tsubaki was right; this was the world. Not everything was going to be a happy ending. And it was unfair of her to judge anyone based on what she thought should be their perception. Perhaps Sigh had been lost in her books too long to remember what people were really like? The true motivations behind their actions? Walking away would be the most logical course of action for her; no one could dispute that.

But she really couldn't help the sense of sympathetic despair gnawing at her. She supposed she could see this point of view, she could see how one may be raised to understand such things, to accept what could easily be construed as unjust by outsiders. But Sigh did not believe herself to be one of those people to bow to what was expected. Sigh thought, Sigh _knew, _that happiness was not wholly based in tradition. How could it be? How could one evolve if that was the case?"


	3. Chapter 3

"'How can we help them?' She saw Kid's eyebrow bob from his side of the window, and though she was relatively certain he hadn't completely heard her through the glass, she knew he knew what she had come for. He threw open the window with a toothbrush hanging from his quirked lips. Sigh drifted into his window upon her borrowed broom, landing none too gracefully beside his night table. She supposed she would eventually have to return the broom but she was loathe to do so; it was a high quality oak, clearly hand crafted with hay bindings and a nice, old wood smell.

She watched Kid finish washing his teeth before he approached her once more, crossing his arms over his casual clothes. It was rather late, and he seemed to be preparing for bed. Sigh felt bad for disturbing him but after her leasing appointment and a light dinner this was all she could think about. She hadn't even changed into her pajamas. 'Help who?'

Sigh scowled at his ignorance. 'Tsubaki and Black Star.'

'Ah. That's what I was afraid you would say.' He turned from her, moving to his closet. She followed and was briefly winded by how expansive his collection of clothing was. The years away had allowed Sigh to forget the fact that his closet was roughly the size of a luxury mobile home. 'Kid we can't let this happen. We can't let her marry someone else.' Kid paused in his selection of a suit. His hand was frozen on a black pinstripe that would look rather nice on him.

'She _is_betrothed then...actually, I think I recall Black Star mentioning something along those lines as I ground him into the pavement.' Looking at the shallow scratches lining Kid's arms and face, his fading black eye and the cut on his lip, Sigh wasn't sure she could say who had ground whom into the pavement. 'They love each other, Kid. Anyone with eyes can see that. And if her parents can't support-'

'It's not really our concern.' The air left Sigh in a rush, like wind leaving sails. 'What? What do you…' Kid's brow remained furrowed but his eyes and voice softened as he observed the disappointed hurt in her gaze. 'Sigh, who are we to say what is best for her? What is the priority of this family? It is none of our business-'

'We're her friends!' Sigh snapped, wounds flaring into flames. 'We should be the ones to stand up for her, to remind her what will make her happy and to make sure everyone else respects that too!'

'Who are we to say what will make her happy? Did you ask her?'

'She loves him!'

'And?' Sigh stuttered before forcing her sentence out.

_It's brand new…ask Kid. Maybe he saw this take over?_

'So they should be together!' Kid's fingers kneaded the bridge of his nose and Sigh couldn't help but be offended by the action. Like he was weary of her ignorance. Her fingers rolled into fists, her teeth grinding together. 'Psyche, we are in no place to tell either Tsubaki or her family what sort of future they should pursue. We have no idea what they have seen, or what they want from life. Our version of happiness may be _very different_from theirs.' Sigh shook her head. 'No! It's not! You don't know anything!' The irritation on Kid's face began to expand into angry offense.

'_I_don't know anything? Name one instance, aside from today, when you've spoken with Tsubaki one on one.' Sigh snarled. 'I don't need more than once! It's not rocket science to see desperation on someone's face! To know when they're hurting! And if you don't get that then maybe you're not really her friend!' The frustration in Kid's face was obvious now and Sigh could tell she had tread upon a nerve.

'And what would you know of our friendship? You vanished for _years_to who _knows where,_doing _who knows what._You don't know what we faced, what _they_faced in the time that _you_decided not to be here!' The knives in his words stung. 'Their shared history is none of our business! I respect that _as their friend._I respect their ability to think as the rational people I believe them to be! I see what they're going through, I see what they have to face down, but it's _nothing that has not been done before._' He stalked towards her until they were face to face, his eyes boring down into hers.

'We're not guardian angels, Sigh. We're not fairy godparents, we're not all-knowing gods. This is not something for us to fix. Fate isn't for us to decide.' Sigh glared up at him, swallowing tears that stemmed more from emotional exertion then sadness. 'You asked them, didn't you?' she accused. Kid's lips flattened, but his gaze remained hard. 'You were worried, and you asked the Greae sisters what would happen. How this would all pan out. And that's the _only reason_you can be so calm about this!'

Kid sighed and brought his hand up to scratch at his scalp. 'Love too, Sigh. I asked the Mistress of Love on her thoughts.' Sigh shook her head. 'Why, Kid? If there's truly nothing we can do, why bother asking? Are you some sort of sadist? Or just an idiot?' Kid's face twitched. 'Knowing is not acting, Psyche.'

'Even _knowing_suggests a type of responsibility.'

'Not to change fate. On this plane one may only play their part.' Kid raised his hands in a placating manner, shaking his head. 'This is getting out of hand. Black Star-'

'What about me then, huh? Should I have just sat back and became this horrid seamstress of chaos they screamed that I would be? Some manipulative, soul devouring _monster?_ Or should I have died with Djinn, like I was supposed to?' Sigh took a shaky breath, trying to calm down. She heard her voice edging near hysteria. 'The fact that I'm _here,_that I'm me and conscious of _everything_, doesn't that mean that fate can be changed? That reality can be changed to suit one's needs, that it can be molded to ensure that happiness is the ruling factor in all that people are? We can do it, Kid, _I_can do it. I see all their desires and their longing and their ideas. I can touch their unspoken longings, I can patch together broken dreams. Isn't that was everyone wants? Their dreams to come true? Their-'

'Wishes granted?' Kid's jaw was tense, and he had reintroduced space between their bodies. Sigh was relieved, as this allowed some of the tension to alleviate, but she also felt oddly cold. He had muttered his question, the look in his eyes one of apprehensive concern. She caught a glance of herself in one of the mirrors on the wall. There was a miasmic glow to her hair, unseen forces lifting the braids from her back to drift about her skull weightlessly. Her eyes were wide and tinged with madness, fingers loosened and clawing into her thighs.

'Yes,' she heard the hiss in her own voice. 'Their wishes granted.' Kid moved so fast she hardly kept track. She was suddenly distracted by the taste of yearning in the air, his and everyone else's, the potential mana thrumming through the wants of the masses in the city below. They pulled at her, tugging her into their tangled auras and urging her towards the summit of their mountain of conflicting _desires_.

Kid's hands clenched on her upper arms, snatching her forward and ripping her from her thoughts. His entire face was emotionless, save for the dip in his eyebrows, his words expressed by the strangling grip of his hands upon her. His eyes were molten sulfur as he scoured her, and some part of her recognized that he was reading her soul, analyzing the corruption in it. How deep it had rooted into her. She was curious of that herself.

Whatever he saw, Kid allowed himself to be comforted by it. His hands moved from her arms to her spine, pulling her close in a stiff embrace. Sigh heard how hard her heart was echoing through her body, and focused on evening it with the steady thrum of his.

_Focus. Focus. Focus._

'Calm down, Sigh,' Kid's breath was warm on the shell of her ear. 'It's alright_._' She grit her teeth, adrenaline suddenly surging in her system. He was holding her _very_ tightly, preventing her from escaping. She didn't like that. She didn't like trying to deny this, her nature. His fingers barring her from what she wanted to do. What she _needed_to do. Make people _happy_. Didn't everyone want their desires fulfilled? She wasn't like her father; she didn't expect their souls in return or anything too extensive. She just needed a bit of aura, and perhaps access to Tsubaki's family. Just a spell of empathy, potentially one intermingled with one of influence, something to convince them their decisions were wrong. That they were wrong-

'Sigh,' perhaps Kid was reading into her silence. Very accurately, if his warning tone was any indication. 'It's none of our business. We have no right. The most we can do is talk to them but we can't-'

'NO.' Unable to take his touch any longer, her mana seized before lashing outwards. Glowing barbs shot from her flesh, Kid's eyes wide in pain and startle as they sliced through his body. The motion of pulling himself from her resulted in a splatter effect. Beads of red dotted the floor and the walls, her face and his shirt. Sigh thought it to be comparable to quality Rorschach or the most expensive example of monochromic pointillism one may ever encounter. It was morbidly beautiful, the smell and taste of his blood on her face snapped her back from the ethereal chaos she had wandered into.

'…Kid, I,' her words choked in her throat, horrified at her own actions. The pain was heavy in Kid's gaze, tinted by startle. 'Oh my God, Kid. I-I'm so _sorry,_I…' She was blinded by tears, breaths coming short and frantic. 'I'm a _monster_I'm still-'

'Sigh, no, wait-' A nightly breeze pushed the curtains into the room where Kid now stood alone.

What no witch will ever admit is how cold it is at night. Aside from the naturally frigid air of the desert when the sun set, there was also the fact that most witches would drift high above the buildings, vulnerable to the wind and all other elements as they came through. And many witches chose more…_revealing_attire. Light fabrics in low-cuts, clingy garments and commando panties. The reasons for these styles varied. Some said it was for power, control over one's womanhood. Others claimed it was due to the amount of magic stored in one's body; the more powerful witches would then face occasions where their clothes would burn off (allegedly). The third –and most likely, in Sigh's opinion- was that it was a tool of distraction.

The term 'hypno-boobies' was one that made her giggle to herself late at times.

Whatever it was, witches had schooled themselves into very cocky 'game faces' although in many cases they were freezing their buns off. Sigh did not suffer in such a simplistic, physical way that night. She'd had the sense to dress for a flight; she had wiggled into leg warmers and a musty hoodie. Both of which were now freckled with red.

She wasn't sure how long she sat in the sky, broom cutting into her thighs and the chill of the dark slowly gnawing through her clothes. The moon sat behind her, laughing with its strange pied aura seeping into her skin. Its essence was always grey and black and pocked with red. It was a curious thing; Sigh thought only things that were alive had auras. The sun didn't have one or, if it did, it was hidden it its glare. She wondered what made the moon so special. That it could sit up there with that knowing smirk, watching everything impassively and defying logic with its stupid aura. But this was silly of her, wasn't it? She should focus on her own issues rather than the odd nature of a hunk of rock floating above the ground. What a coward she was, avoiding her own guilt.

Everything was a waste. _She_was a waste. Of Time, of magic, of flesh. She truly had made no progress, had she? All it took was an _argument_for her to lose absolute control absolutely. Or maybe she never had it? All she had learned, then, was to toss a sheet over herself and no one would notice how dangerously pathetic she really was. And no one was on her side, no one wanted to help Tsubaki and Black Star, no one-

Sigh was caught off guard as a force struck the back of her borrowed broom, sending her into a descending spiral. She had allowed herself to drift lower, as she was finally settled on returning to her room, and this decision seemed to have come back to haunt her. She was struck again and slammed into the branches of a nearby tree. She wasn't hurt, but she was relatively annoyed.

'Hey! What are you doing flying so low this close to the training grounds?! You're gonna get hurt!' Sigh's eyes snapped open at the sound of the voice.

The park was always well lit, even this late at night, due to the fact that many used to grounds to train. Street lamps were placed every few meters, and a few of the pathways had solar powered cobble stones, allowing a glow to rise from below. It was roughly as bright as the early evening, enough to see but not enough to disrupt the horizon.

The first to get to her was Thunder, recognizable through her platinum blonde hair and the baby blue eyes. Over the years she had grown to stand nearly as tall as Sigh, modest silver studs in her ears and clear gloss on her lips. Her hands were up in the air, palms towards Sigh like she wasn't sure if she was to help her up or pat her down. Behind Thunder followed who could only be Fire, his light blonde hair cut close to his skull and his blue eyes trained on her in disbelief and alarm. Sigh scrambled to her feet as the owner of the scolding voice came forward.

'We came out here to be sure that no…one…' Kilik froze, words dying on his tongue. Sigh brushed herself off and adjusted her glasses. She struggled to calm down, to put on a mask, desperate to avoid speaking of her upset. There was no need to let anyone else know. There was no need to ruin this moment. Calm, calm, she had to be-

'…Hi Thunder, Fire….Kilik.' Awkwardly, Sigh opened her arms. Thunder was immediately present, allowing herself to be embraced, chin resting on Sigh's shoulder. Fire stood to the side, hands in his pockets. The street light allowed Sigh to see a light blush on his face as she extended her arm to include him in the hug.

'…Sigh. It's been a while.' She nodded. 'It has. I didn't see you at Soul and Maka's wedding.' Kilik smirked. 'I heard there wasn't much of a wedding to see.' Sigh rolled her eyes, straining a smile. 'Did everyone know what those two were up to but me?' Kilik chuckled, feeling more comfortable in his approach. He paused just before reaching her, like he wasn't sure how to react to her presence. Sigh hugged him. This effectively hid her face –long enough for her to finish schooling her look- and spared him the awkwardness of decision-making.

'I-I heard,' she took a breath to steady herself. 'That you were the meister and scythes of Western Africa now.' Kilik smiled softly. 'Yep. We're here for our biannual meeting with the other scythes. ' Kilik shrugged. 'Plus, we were a little homesick.' Sigh chuckled. 'Aren't you from Kenya?'

'And Fire and Thunder's parents live in South Africa.'

'How were you homesick while being home?'

'We were homesick for our school town.'

Fire smirked, the sound of his sister's tinkering giggles accenting his facial expression.

'Yeah that totally makes since.' They shared a moment of content silence before Sigh spoke again. 'I got your letters!...well, most of them. I collected them all when I got back from…_everywhere_. It was a little disconcerting to watch the address go from Death City to Ethiopia.' Kilik rubbed the back of his neck. 'Yeah well, life changes, you know? We couldn't just stay static without you here.' He spoke lightly but Sigh felt strange guilt. 'I didn't really expect you to.'

Perhaps too much of her hurt entered her voice, as vague concern appeared in Kilik's eyes. 'We know Sigh. I was just kiddin'. We all have our own lives.' Sigh nodded, glancing away from him as she moved to recover her broom from the ground. 'It was nice seeing you, guys. We should grab lunch while you're in town. I'm…moving back here so it should be easier to hunt me down.'

Kilik's confused look became tinted with hurt at her dismissal, his aura jerking. 'Yeah…of course.' Kilik shared a look with Fire and Thunder. The twins reflected his look of confusion and alarm. 'Something…up?' Sigh forced a smile back to her face. 'NO!...I mean no…why?' Kilik raised an eyebrow. 'There totally is.'

'I'm fine.'

'Your hands are shaking.'

'I'm a little cold.'

'Is that blood on your face?'

'I'm _fine_.' Kilik's face twitched. After a deep breath, he spoke again. 'You're not going home until you tell us what happened.'

Sigh wanted to refuse but the twin pots were on her in seconds, one for each arm, guiding her over to a bench. Sigh swallowed her panic. Panic had hurt Kid, and she honestly wouldn't be able to live with herself if she'd hurt the twins. Not when Thunder was smiling up at her gently and Fire's eyes were alight with determination. They'd both grown to be very beautiful, their doe eyes sharpening and their bodies gaining poise. They were able to walk beside Sigh at an even pace and she realized, with a startle, that Fire was on the verge of being taller than her.

'So,' although she saw Kilik move with them, Sigh still jumped a bit on the edge of her seat. 'What's new with you?' Sigh felt ridiculously guilty. She hadn't seen Kilik in five years and here she was, unloading her tale of misery into his lap. What did she know of his life now? How could she even think she deserved to pin him with her uncertainties? But a part of her leapt at the chance to ooze her anxiety, to let it set it claws into someone else, for a change. Spread it around so that she wouldn't have to carry it all by herself.

She opened her mouth to speak her uncertainty, tears once again gathering in her eyes. 'Well I...I think overstepped my bounds. I think I...I don't think I'm wrong, but I know hurting Kid was wrong and...I guess I have to start from the beginning right?' She laughed uneasily. 'Otherwise you'd have no idea what I was talking about.'

'Yes Rehema. By all means, start from the beginning.' Sigh's voice froze in her throat, her eyes shooting to the witch who seemed to appear from nowhere. Kilik was motionless, his eyes still trained on Sigh's in a sympathetic manner. The moths that had been pecking at the streetlight above their heads were paused mid-flight, the night unnaturally still. 'He's a cute one.' Mabaa cupped Kilik's face gently. She examined his eyes and ears, prodded at his biceps and ran her fingertips on his skin. Sigh kept her seat beside the young man, weary of what Mabaa would do if she was allowed to sit by him.

'And he has a certain wisdom about him. He reminds me of your grandfather.' Sigh snorted, eager to steer Mabaa away from her near confession. 'From what I know of Anansi, I'm not interested in dating a guy even remotely similar.' Mabaa shrugged, shamelessly tracing the contours of Kilik's neck with her fingers. 'That's not fair. Have your precious legends told you that his tongue was good at _so much more_ than telling tales?'

'I didn't need to know that.'

'It would be so much simpler to explain your tryst were it with a human rather than a reaper. Then I could pass it off as a phase, something simple and easily broken.' Mabaa smirked. 'And I doubt you would ever be forced to wear this one's blood on your face.' Sigh stiffened as her grandmother released Kilik and reached for her. The older woman's hands were gentle as she licked her thumb and rubbed at a stubborn splotch of red near Sigh's mouth. 'What happened? Lover's spat?'

The younger woman pursed her lips. 'I wouldn't call it that.'

'Then what?' Sigh shrugged awkwardly. 'I just…I lost my temper.'

'Ah…is he still alive?'

'Yes.'

'Oh. Pity.' Sigh ignored the disappointment in her grandmother's voice, pulling away. 'Why are you here?' The elder witch sighed and leaned back, sitting on what looked like a floating crystal ball. 'I'm visiting you when you least expect it, of course. A nice, inconvenient time. Isn't that what grandparents do? Arrive baring unwanted sweaters and dry confectionaries? With effort I think could accomplish being your average grandmother.' Sigh barked a short laugh. 'Hardly. I think you're setting your goals too high.'

'Respect your elders, Brat. I am what I choose to be and I understand what is required of me. I am here to take you back to the witches' realm. I assume you've had your fill of this world, and though your basic training is over there is still much you must learn. There is news that can only be properly addressed-'

'No.' Sigh realized she had spoken aloud when Mabaa paused, eyes narrowing. 'What do you mean "no"? Do you think to deny me?' Sigh lifted her hands and shook her head. 'No, it's not that, Bibi. It's just…yes, actually. That's it exactly. I don't want to go.' Sigh folded her arms and closed her eyes. 'I'm tired. And…I feel like I'm missing out on everything going on in my friends' lives. I feel like all I've done, all I can do, is flounder alone. I don't like feeling like this. I need something sturdy. I don't like-'

'You don't. Belong here.' Mabaa snarled. '_That _is why you struggle. You concern yourself with these cardboard people?' Her hand was a flash of movement, a tiny scratch appearing on Thunder's neck. Sigh grit her teeth to keep from lashing out but the strain was obvious on her face. Mabaa rolled her eyes.

'I have already addressed this subject. This life you built in your lost years is _temporary. Fragile._Full of actors that play only one role and then vanish forever.' Mabaa spoke in a sing-song voice, grasping Kilik's jaw roughly. 'You must focus on your future, one in which they have already died. You must be ready not only to live beyond them but to prosper without them. There's no point to ripping yourself to shreds when their old minds whither and leave them husks with tubes in their noses.' Sigh frowned. 'The fact that they're "temporary" means that I should spend as much time as possible with them. Living with them. Knowing them…I'm not going to focus on how they die. But on how they live.'

'…_quickly_ and _brutishly_.' Sigh made a face. 'You _wish_.' Mabaa's eyes darkened. 'Must we return to the unfortunate longevity of Death's boy?'

Sigh glared at her grandmother meanly as the latter started to laugh. 'You're trying to be spiteful. That's _cute_, Rehema. Sometimes I forget how young you are.' Smoke curled from the older woman's body. It was possible to see burns searing into her shoulders and neck and although Sigh was angry, she felt a twinge of concern. 'Bibi-'

'I know,' the Grand Witch sighed. 'But I want _you _to know I'm _very_ disappointed in you_._' Sigh bunched her hands in her hoodie. 'I'm sure you are.'

'I'm not surprised or angry, just rather _disappointed_. Why must you make your mother's mistakes with such zeal?' Sigh stiffened. 'Kid is not a monster. He's-'

'I've heard this story, regarding a different man. You'll respond "No, Mama, you don't understand" and "no, Mama, he's misunderstood. He's good to me,"' Mabaa's hair started to curl and kink as irritated magic surged through her body. Sigh stiffened, ready to pull Kilik and his weapons to safety. '"No, Mama, I will _not_ kill him. Once the baby is born...once the baby is born..."' Reading the look on Sigh's face, Mabaa forced herself to relax. The heavy power in the air left a musty taste on the back of Sigh's tongue. 'Perhaps this is a curse. Perhaps my descendants are always to seek the most complicated path? Is it my doing? Repentance for my actions?' Sigh's jaw was stiff as she gazed up at her the witch. There was the strangest frailty to the woman's eyes, although her face remained impassive.

'I'm sorry, Bibi.'

'Are you?' the question was almost accusatory. Sigh bit her lip.

'You're not wrong. I mean, I'd forgotten how unstable I was until tonight. And maybe I _should_ leave him alone. Maybe I _should_ go back with you where I can't hurt anyone. But I really don't want to go.' Mabaa made a disgusted noise in her throat. 'You must know that there is a faction that watches your time in Death City warily. They are suspicious of your motives, and should they look any closer-'

'Let them look,' Sigh mumbled almost too low to hear. 'I can't hide this so I won't even try. I'm happy here. They can _deal with it_.'

'Oh, Rehema,' Mabaa leaned close. 'The witch way of "dealing with things" is hardly as simple as you may think. We don't like to feel threatened. You are a magic creature who seemed to appear out of nowhere, was forced into their lives by their allegedly wise leader, and granted the position of heir apparent seemingly overnight. Yes, to some, you are a threat to us, to our ways. To some, it would be perfectly justified if you were to vanish in some tragic fashion. You keep what you kill, Rehema. What do you think the reward is for killing the next in line to lead the witches?'

Sigh swallowed, trying to fight down the sense of dread brought on by her grandmother's words. 'But all is not lost. I would advise you be ready. If this is what you have chosen, what you _really want,_ you must defend it. Even I cannot protect you from your own choices.' The witch sighed, glancing over at Kilik. 'In the meantime, however, I suppose I'll allow you to get back to your night. This discussion is done.'

'Wait,' Sigh spoke before Mabaa could retreat. 'Is that it? You're letting me stay?' Mabaa sighed. 'I would have preferred for you to return with me. There is someone I wanted you to become familiar with before they were forced upon you…but I suppose it can wait.' Steely eyes gazed into the shadows of the night.

'Wait!'

'…okay? We're right here.' Sigh blinked, Kilik's confused face coming into focus. 'You okay Sigh?' She climbed to her feet a bit too quickly. 'Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine. I just…I wanted you to know, um, that I really appreciate you listening to me.' Kilik quirked an eyebrow. 'Yeah…no problem. So what's up?' Sigh shook her head. Although Mabaa was gone the shadows were still oddly dense. '…I'm actually okay now.'

'The blood on your face?'

'I had a messy fall earlier, remember?' Kilik's eyes hardened, and for a moment Sigh was worried he would see through her lie. It was rather peculiar, from his perspective, how quickly her demeanor had changed. But she kept her smile as sincere as possible, the calm in her eyes a little more convincing than before. 'Okay,' he finally said, somewhat uneasily. 'But if you ever need to talk...'

'I will,' Sigh smiled. 'We have a lot to catching up to do, remember? It's just...it's almost midnight. It would be rude of me to keep you any later.' She shot to her feet before he could stop her, snatching her broom to her side. 'It's a nice night for a flight, so if you don't mind I think I'll take my leave. I could probably carry you guys, but I don't think it'd be very comfortable-'

'Sigh.' Kilik grabbed her elbow, dark eyes searching hers. 'My mother has this saying; "_Mtu ambaye anatumia nguvu ni hofu ya hoja._ A man who uses force is afraid of reasoning." This man commits to fool's errands, trying to force squares into circles because he can see no other way.' Kilik sighed, his hand releasing Sigh to run over his dreads. 'I'm not sure what's really goin' on, what you're not telling me but...just keep that advice in mind, okay?' Sigh smiled uncomfortably. 'It seems a little out of place.'

'...I don't think so. It feels right to say.' Sigh's smile fell. Intuition was a magic that even the common man could utilize; if they knew to take advantage of it. 'Oh. Okay. I'll keep it in mind.' Kilik nodded firmly before turning back to his weapons. 'You two heard the lady. Let's get to bed. We have to be well rested for more practice tomorrow!' Thunder clapped her hands gleefully, but Fire's eyes were still trained on Sigh curiously. 'We can probably get a few hours in before we meet Sigh for lunch! Tomorrow at noon, right Sigh?' Sigh smiled and nodded. 'Yes, tomorrow is fine.'

_Because their lives were too short._

'Enough pleasantries. I wanna get to my flight.' Sigh wiggled her broom in front of Kilik's nose, sweeping away Mabaa's truth. 'Alright Sigh. Don't stay out too late; dangerous things come out at night.' Sigh huffed and slung her leg over the broom like she was prepping to take off. Catching the hint, Kilik rolled his eyes and herded his weapons onward.

As soon as Kilik faded from view, Sigh lit upon the ground once more. She ran her hands over her face, suddenly conscious of her heated cheeks and swollen eyes. Nerves had her spine tingling but there was no escaping him now; he had definitely noticed her, his aura surging forward fiercely and with purpose. It moved collectively with the shadows and Sigh recognized the fact she was failing to differentiate from that which was cast by the moon's light and that which belonged to the reaper approaching her.

He had hastily gotten dressed, assumedly to come after her. Pulling on a white shirt and dark jeans, black slip-on loafers on his feet. His dark hair was mussed like it was reflective of his mood. The glow provided by celestial bodies was hardly enough to compete with the spiritual shine from his jasper eyes. The top button and the last two on his untucked shirt were not buttoned, and Sigh wasn't sure whether to attribute this to his haste or to the state of his hands. Although they were wrapped in bandages, crimson was already bleeding through. Guilt ravaged Sigh.

Kid continued walking until he was roughly a meter from where Sigh stood, close enough for her to see the unamused glint to his eyes as he gazed after where Kilik had disappeared. Sigh had never known how to read the reaper's response to her interaction with the young man before. But, then again, she had not seen Kilik since entering this courtship with Kid. Now she was strangely attuned to the reaper's paid attention to how she behaved and with whom. Now she could read his expression as it was.

_Jealousy._

'Kid, I-'

'Are you alright?' His voice was hard and blunt, and Sigh felt her heart plummet to the pit of her stomach. 'I'm fine.' Kid nodded as his eyes continued to prod her and she gazed away. After a moment of uncomfortable silence he lifted one of his hands to her cheek. His movements were mildly stiff in pain but his fingers were gentle as he forced her to look at him. 'It was immature for you to run off during a conversation,' he growled. 'While we may have our disagreements, getting the last word does not make you right. To walk away is disrespectful towards others and an insult to your intelligence.' Sigh was startled at the realization that he was reprimanding her. 'Really? _That's_your primary concern right now? Scolding me?' She pried his fingers from her jaw, bringing his hand to her shamed gaze. 'I _stabbed_you, you moron. I drew blood! Can we talk about that? Can we talk about how sorry I am-'

'That's nothing,' he interrupted. 'I heal quickly.' It was true, Death the Kid did heal a great deal faster than any human Sigh knew. But his wounds –that _she_had caused- were no less nasty with this knowledge. Under normal circumstances the bleeding would have at least stopped. It almost appeared as though his hands would need stitches. Like her magic had hurt him more severely than anything his body was used to. She could only imagine the damage hidden by his shirt. 'Kid, I could have really hurt you.'

'Again, it's _nothing_,' his voice was impatient. 'The way you left, the way you just ran away, that is what I wish to discuss. You jumped out the window after an argument that could have easily been resolved if you had just _stayed. _It was so easy for you to leave, I was worried-' he cut himself off, lips pursing and reluctant vulnerability in his eyes. Sigh understood. Because she, too, was afraid she would just up and fall off the map again someday. She didn't want to, but life has the strangest way of disregarding one's wishes. 'Do_ not_ run away from me, Psyche.'

'Even if I'm poison to you?'

'I understand the risks.'

'There's something wrong in your head.'

'Perhaps.' She wasn't sure whether it was appropriate or not to laugh at his pigheadedness. There was the ghost of a smile on his face but his words were heavy.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered. 'For everything. I shouldn't behave this way, fits an' all. I'm too old for it, right?' she smiled at him, hoping to loosen the vestiges of darkness in his gaze. Although the wrinkle between his eyes remained, his body lost a bit of its tension. Sigh allowed her smile to expand, bringing his two hands together and lifting them to her lips in a gentle kiss.

'_Kuja kwangu_,' she muttered against the bandages, eyes closed to avoid contact with his. '_Kupona_.' She used some of her personal aura in her magic, an apology for her earlier actions. A little shimmering ball of mana encompassed their joined hands, mist rising from the covered injuries. Sigh opened her eyes after a few moments, gently peeling back his bandages. 'Better?'

Awe colored Kid's face as he looked at his hands closely. 'Much.' He smiled at her, making a conscious effort to recover from his funk. One that she had caused, of course. 'Thank you, Sigh.' She beamed at his thanks. 'It's the least I can do! Do you want me to do your chest too? Where else did I catch you?' The strangest look crossed Kid's face at her offer. 'It's… not courtship protocol for you to kiss my chest at this stage in our relationship.' Sigh's eyes widened as she realized the implications of her offer, embarrassment making her stutter.

'I-It doesn't need to be a kiss! I can use me hands!...ugh, I probably shouldn't run my hands all over you either….ughhhhhh fucking courtship ugggghhhhhhh I'm such a _ho _ugggghhhhh.'

'I'm fine, Sigh. Really, it's nothing.' There was laughter in his voice as he spoke and Sigh bit her lip to perpetuate her petulance. The pad of Kid's thumb pressed to her chin and leaned forward slowly, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he slid an arm around her waist.

'Did it help?' he whispered. 'Your talk with Kilik…did it help you?' Sigh nodded, returning his embrace. 'Yes…I think your father unintentionally confused me…and Kilik allowed me a perspective I could only get from a…a mortal.' It felt strange to call Kilik that, but Sigh supposed that was what he was.

'It's true that they often see the world differently than we do.' She felt rather than saw Kid smile. 'There's such beauty in the way they perceive the world. So simple…and yet so _complex_.' He pulled away to look into Sigh's eyes gently. 'I envy them, to a degree. Their lives aren't easy, but they have so much potential. It's made me believe that anything can be possible. So I can say, with utmost confidence, that Black Star may actually have more of this situation under control than you realize.' Sigh frowned.

'Explain.'

'He went to her parents, Sigh. He made his intentions clear. And her father gave him a chance. They were actually willing to consider him as a member of their family. All he had to do was complete three so-called "impossible" trials.' Sigh's eyes widened and Kid's smile curled further on his face. 'But of course the impossible is entirely possible for the man who intends to surpass the gods.' Happiness radiated from Kid's aura and Sigh felt the warmth down to her bones. 'I mean, I assume there is to be more asked of him before they may be wed. There is still the chance that he may be denied…but isn't it best to hope for the best? And if anyone can pull this off, it'll be him.' The pleasure in Kid's voice and the overt faith in his friend was terribly charming.

'I just…wow…so he has it under control? You think he can do this?' Kid's charm decreased by ten as his look turned smarmy. 'Of _course_. You realize the lesson to be taken here is that I am _always _right.' Sigh raised an eyebrow. The lesson from Kilik, as out of place as it seemed, was much better than Kid's words of wisdom. 'Yeah…no.'

'…I could be.'

'No.'

'You have to be kind to me. You hurt me.'

'And I'm thinking of doing it again.'

The next morning broke over Death City with a yawn, and Anne Dunne felt the retreating chill in her bones. She was getting old, she confessed to herself, but at least she was still capable of surviving on her own. She couldn't imagine being forced to rely on anybody else, forced to surrender her pride –among other things- to the grasping claws of time. Aside from her sister's family all the way back in the old country she didn't have anyone to take care of her anyone. At least no one she knew well. She hadn't seen her great-great-grand nieces and nephews in decades. Worst case scenario, she figured she would return to the faded fields of her folk and participate in the tradition of growing into the ground, becoming one with the forests. But that was a ways away. That would mean giving up her little cottage in the middle of Death City.

There was a knock on her door, and she grumbled crankily. Yes, she was awake. But she didn't like being disturbed this early. She took her time getting to the door, partially hopeful whoever it was would give up and leave. When it became obvious they were nearly as determined to visit as she was to be alone, she threw open the door.

'Yes, yes, what do you want?' The young woman blinked down at Ms. Dunne and the older woman had to confess that her eyes were quite beautiful. As one of the fair folk, Anne had a great appreciation for the filigrees of magic that pulsed through the world's veins. Looking into the gaze of her former charge, the bean sighe thought she could see the magic of the forest breathing into her home. 'Hi…um…sorry to bother you so early.' The young woman looked properly ashamed, which lightened Anne's mood considerably. 'I don't know if you remember me. My name is Psyche-'

'Of course I remember you, silly girl. How could I forget?' The abashment on the young woman's face deepened further. 'Right. Well, I borrowed this broom yesterday from the fence outside. I didn't know it was your house until I actually read the mailbox. I mean, I'm glad it is. Yours, I mean. It gives me an excuse to come see you and…I think I'm rambling.' Anne sighed. Behind her the tea kettle began to sing. 'Thank you, Ms. Dunne. I couldn't before but…you deserve to be thanked. For taking care of me when I was…out.' The old woman stared up at the young woman in vague surprise. Before and after that time, she had had several new charges, those in coma and those in hospice. Those meant to die and those who opened their eyes. None of them had ever thanked her. After a moment, she sighed and stepped to the side of her door frame. 'Would you like a cup of tea, Psyche? I believe I would like to get to know the girl I used to bathe.' Sigh's face heated up. 'I-I just came to return your broom-'

'Tell you what,' there was a mischievous glint in the fairy's eyes but her smile was kind. 'You join me for tea, visit a bit, and I'll let you keep the broom. It suits the magic surrounding you.' The young woman smiled and the fogs of mana in her eyes began to dance."


	4. Chapter 4

**BB says: **I like being on Summer vacation. Although I still have work, I can work on my writing when off the clock.

**BB says: **I like being on vacation. Although I still have work, I can work on my writing when off the clock.

The stars sparkled beautifully over them, the city lights far in the distance as they rested on their backs. Usually she would lie on the sand with nothing inhibiting her from her connection with the earth. She loved to feel it breathe and shift and _live _as the largest organism humans had ever known. Something with power beyond their comprehension, that patiently toiled beneath them to keep the comparably microscopic lives that relied upon it moving. It was a nurturer and a disciplinarian; a mother and a monster; a devil and a goddess. The sky above their heads was but the world's massive aura; great and all-seeing.

The woman felt it pull on her, just as the essence of anything else would, and occasionally she would allow herself a taste of its charm. It was like drinking cave water. Cold and clear and strangely sweet. It should be bottled, something she could keep at her side at all times. But she instinctually knew she could never master it completely; at least, not without costing her life. There was too much power in it for her body to handle all at once, and though she could potentially utilize it for a time it would inevitably tear her to bits not long after. That was simple fact.

Like many recent nights, Death had insisted that they –she in particular- lay on a plush blanket during their outing. She assumed this was due to the fact that she had been transmuted into a fragile Ming Vase during her pregnancy and he was protecting his investment. He was under the constant belief that the moment he let his guard down, the second he dared to breathe, she would simply shatter into a million, unrecoverable, pieces. It was a silly assumption of course; considering how long she had gone before even realizing she was pregnant, all her activities and adventures, she hardly thought lying on sand would be the end of her.

But she was set to agree to his terms so long as they went on their _damn date already _because it was more or less tradition now for the two of them to watch the stars change seasons together. The longer they argued, the less likely they would make it out there before the sun began to creep upon them. They always ventured out mere hours before dawn when the night was at its darkest. Far out in the desert, even farther than Death City, the noise and light pollution of civilization was nulled, allowing them an incomparable view of the universe.

As he lay beneath her ear, Death muttered gently to himself. It was not enough to disturb the tranquility of the night but occasionally he spoke just loud enough for his wife to listen in. She intermittently rubbed his chest soothingly, knowing he was mentally thousands of miles away. There was a rather nasty territorial war occurring between Pakistan and India, and Death was unconsciously saying the names of those welcomed into his fold. Morbid, perhaps. But not out of character for him. These names appeared in his mind like they were fed from a mental teletype machine and speaking them seemed to be an instinctual tool to relieve pressure.

This habit made it difficult to explore baby names.

"Nabhanyu. Jagachandra. Udayasooriyan. Undri. Xavier. Aaina. Haima. Zahara. Endri. Enxi. And another Xavier? Tsk…" She kneaded her fingers into his shoulder as she felt him tense. War was a fact of life that could not be denied. Although he was a bit of an arse and ruined basically every dinner party he was ever invited to.

"It's funny isn't it?" Death silenced himself, the cue for Psyche to continue. "Meteors and space dust; that's all we're made out of. Carbon and Iron and Hydrogen. We're made of _stars. _Cosmic dust and to dust we all someday return." She clicked her tongue. "I'm just a shooting star trying to find my way home." After a moment of pensive silence, Death spoke. "Psyche, I'm Death and I still find that statement to be a bit dampening."

"Meh. I'm feeling a bit reflective, lately, so deal with it." Death sighed as his fingers toyed with a bit of his wife's hair. She forgone straightening her hair in favor of a more natural look and he found the artistry of her hair's many forms fascinating. Tonight it was box braids, perhaps in a few months she would sport an afro, or dread locks. Whatever she was in the mood for, really.

The two immortals were tossed into temporary shadow as what was left of the moon was encased by a cloud. "When our son is born, I want to have all my thoughts in order. He can't have a scatter-brained mother running around. He'll never learn purpose, that way."

"One cannot deny their nature, even for their _daughter._" Psyche pouted and sat up, glaring at her husband. "Are you calling me scattered?" Death's eyebrow raised in challenge. "And a bit impulsive, yes."

"Oh, _I'm _impulsive?"

"Yes." She sputtered indignantly. "Well, at least I'm not an impatient, neurotic, arrogant, curmudgeon!" Death scowled. "And this is coming from the Queen of the brash and the rude?"

"Only if the King of the fat heads accepts his crown!"

"Disrespectful, ungrateful-"

"Nit-pickin', selfish-"

"Dismissive, air-headed-"

"Insensitive, i-ignorant…" tears began to fall down Psyche's face and Death's eyes grew wide. "H-hey! I'm sorry I shouldn't have been so cruel, I shouldn't-"

"N-no!" she sniffled. "That's not it! You're fine! It's fine!" Because insult throwing skirmishes were a (fun?) staple of their marriage. Death's hand gently patted her back, eyes still concerned. His worry made her sob. "Love, you have to tell me what's wrong-"

"I DON'T KNOW!" She barked wetly. "My emotions are exploding! I'm sad but happy and you're so awesome and I'm so awesome and I think I left the iron on and what if I do that to the baby?"

"…you're worried you'll leave the baby on?"

"O-or something and…and…I'm _scattered _so…" Death knit his brows together. "That bothered you so much? I'll never say it again then-"

"NO. It's fine! I like fighting with you! NO. Not fighting, _fighting. _NO." Sigh rubbed at her face in frustration. "UGH. I'm a mess. Forget this just happened. Just…UGH." She slammed her head into her husband's chest, knocking him back to the ground. He allowed her to pout and mutter indecencies regarding for moment before speaking.

"Truly, 'scattered' is not the correct term," he hummed above her head. "Perhaps I should have said that you were gifted at…multi-tasking alongside other things?" The woman scoffed, coming down from her hormonal high and understandably ashamed.

"You have a terrifying temperament like that of a sunburst-"

"Death, do you remember how we wound up getting married?" Honestly, she was embarrassed enough without his poetry pleasurably frazzling her. The bastard knew this of course; how could he think to distract her from her shame with something that made her stutter and choke?

Her question successfully interrupted his efforts. "It's a bit…blurry, to be honest. But I think you gave me a black eye at some point…maybe?" Sensing his wife's disapproval, Death was quick to speak again. "And, AND, you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen." She turned her head until she could see the sky once more. Cassiopeia, the upside-down woman, was directly overhead.

"I still am, right? You still find me beautiful?" Death hummed.

"I don't think the word is strong enough, but yes." Psyche huffed. "Well, anyway, there's a lot more to us than just that. A wedding is more than just the ceremony, you know, it's the circumstances leading up to it."

"Oh?" there was amusement in Death's voice. "Enlighten me, then." Psyche pouted.

"The books on Sigh's cart were impressively thick, and she wondered just who had misplaced them. They seemed too heavy for the freshmen of Shibusen to be able to lift, and the upper classmen usually called themselves as being too busy to bother with such tiny print. Honestly, Sigh had thumbed through the tomes herself but the material was akin to eating dry oatmeal while watching paint dry. They were older than she could ever had thought possible in Shibusen, even in the fourth level of the library, and were written in what appeared to be Latin. Regardless of her esteemed position as the Librarian's assistant, she wasn't certain of her authority in even _touching _these books. They felt surprisingly fragile beneath her hands.

The Dewey Decimal system that one may come across in civilian libraries and book stores had been given an upgrade when introduced into Shibusen. Melvin Dewey had been called in 1880 to design the structure, and it had continued to evolve until his death. Sworn to secrecy, Dewey put special care in editing such an important institution. 000 was General Works, including Computer Science, Research in Magic, and information regarding Shibusen's founding. There was a rumor that Death had an entire written work of his family tree hidden somewhere in on Level Four in this section, but the gossip seemed unfounded (and unlikely).

100 was Philosophy and Psychology.

200 Religion, including Voodoo, Wiccan and Witchcraft (limited collections), Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Deism, Atheism, Hinduism, and basically every other religion Sigh could ever think to mention. Including a cult in Australia who worshiped aliens.

300 and 400, Social Sciences and Language, were two of her favorite subjects. She loved the novelty of other cultures, and appreciated them all the more from living among them. Occasionally, the bottoms of her feet would itch and she would be called upon to venture once more into the world. She would walk the paths of the fae; breathe the air of Kilimanjaro; howl with the wolves of the artic; dance in the forests of Fuji. It was a little too simple to exhaust her vacation days, and she supposed it was rather unfair that her connections to the Headmaster were the only reason she could hold this job down.

Not that she was going to complain.

500 and 600 were sections that were too often haunted by a mischievous Stein, so she tried to avoid them. Although he had helped her find her potential in the past, she could not deny he still stir a feeling of discontent in her bones. He was a very powerful man and certainly deserved all the respect he was shown by his students and colleagues. And his wife, Marie, was a terribly sweet woman who was always hosting cocktails and dinner parties for the staff of the school. Sigh supposed she liked Stein well enough. But she wasn't interested in pursuing anything beyond acquaintance. Especially when he was lurking about, finding new theories to dissect.

700-

Sigh paused, hand on the spine of a catalog of Da Vinci's finest works. She was suddenly very aware of the presence behind her and felt a bit violated at it. She wasn't sure how long they had been there because she hadn't felt them approaching. One moment she was alone, the next they were there. She hummed through her nose, glancing down her step-stool to make eye contact with the girl standing within inches of her feet.

She looked to be an average Shibusen student, probably around fifteen, a mousy brown ponytail high on her head. She had sucked her thin pink lips into her mouth as she gazed up at Sigh through wire frames, her brown eyes boiling in her round face and her long fingers bunching in her pleated sage skirt. 'Are you lost?' Sigh somehow managed to keep her irritation from her voice. She mainly came to Level Three for the solace it offered; she wasn't in the mood to help a lost little girl. Children irked her. Especially those who wandered where they shouldn't.

'The Level One library is two floors down. I'm surprised you weren't stopped at the counter…' the girl didn't respond although her eyes seemed to burn brighter with the addition of offense. Sigh didn't know what was setting her off and couldn't bring herself to care. 'Look, I'll walk back with you so you won't get in trouble. But next time, please keep in mind you must have special permission to come up here.' Or be in relations with the Dean's son.

Sigh climbed down the ladder, aware of the unfairness of her position and guilty for it. She had no right to be snappish; her privileges seemed to come to her via connection rather than skill. But wasn't that the way the world worked anyway? She pulled a pen from her hair and scribbled the shelf number onto her hand, a simple reminder that would ensure she would be able to return to her place later. A glance at her watch told her it was not yet five; if she hurried she could still be finished in time to meet her friends for dinner.

As Sigh turned away from the girl to make sure the books on her cart were in order, she was startled to see they had been knocked to the floor, the cart upended with the wheels still turning in the air. Her irritation was stirred into anger as she spun to glare at the girl.

'Look, I offered to do you a favor,' she growled, a bit unsettled by the fact she hadn't heard the girl do the crime. 'If you're caught in here by yourself you'll get hella detention. With Stein. And he doesn't care much for those who break rules for no reason.'

'And what would you know of that?' the voice that erupted from the girl's throat was not that of a teenager but of a woman well into her prime. 'Breaking rules for no reason? From what I can tell, you hardly know anything of beautiful chaos.' She thrust her arm outward. The cart was jerked from the row in which they stood, books scattered and metal screaming like a dying animal as it began to melt. Sigh raised an eyebrow. 'Do you really want to do this here?'

The witch grinned wickedly, fiery soul flaring into glory as her cover fell to pieces.

She was here on behalf of Sigh's mysterious enemy, Sigh had no doubt, some witch pulling the strings from the shadows. She couldn't be certain who it was, but her fear had waned considerably after the first five attempts. They came intermittently, seemingly with no consideration for her time. The first had come nearly a month after her talk with Mabaa, the older witch's cryptic warning taking form in the worm witch once called upon to deliver letters. Her name was Sophia, and her familiar was a rather large, quickly healing, earthworm. Sigh had not enjoyed that battle. She had been caught off guard, her shoulder dislocated and her eye swollen shut. Her magic was sloppy and ill-prepared as she threw it, and she stumbled more than she would have liked.

In the end, Sigh was victorious and chose to leave Sophia alive. Wounded, but alive. Just enough so that the witch understood where she stood in comparison. The latter had glared up at Sigh in blatant resentment, the tatters of her pride littered among the shreds of her familiar.

'I'm not the last,' she had spat bitterly, new gaps in her teeth. 'Nor am I the most powerful! You'll fall, _traitor. _And we'll all be better off for it!' Her words had been disquieting, and Sigh had stood in the dust of their battle until she was shaken from her thoughts by Kid. He had sensed the witch's presence, distantly, and although he had been the one to negotiate peace between the races he wasn't foolish enough to ignore the sudden spike in magical pressure. Or the fireworks that quickly began thereafter.

He had fumed and raged most of the afternoon after that, pacing about Sigh's living room and cursing in a manner she hadn't known he was capable of. Her eyes were glued to him as he seemed to be winding himself into near violence with Liz and Patty speaking soothingly from the sidelines. Sigh found his fury oddly comforting, territorial pleasure warming her gut. She felt guilt for upsetting him, certainly. And fear of the witch's words still chilled her spine. But she did like the idea of him fighting for her…angry on her behalf…the flames in his eyes…

'_I'll have her __**head.**__' _Sigh was snapped from her rapacious thoughts by his shift in tone. His voice had deepened dangerously, his eyes narrowed and his hands clenched into fists. He had stopped pacing, coming to a sudden and worrisome stop in the middle of the floor. His face was determined and his eyes distant in a way that suggested dangerous processes. Sigh unfolded herself quickly, afraid of a brash decision.

She looked up at him patiently, her hand brushing his fist and fighting to unfurl his fingers. It wasn't his battle to fight; his interference could only worsen matters. If the witches thought to string her up for her beliefs, to knock her down for that which she couldn't help, then so be it. She would _not _fall to this, not when she'd fought so hard to make it so far. She hadn't been sure she wanted to take Mabaa's place, to be one with the witches. But knowing there was someone out there trying to _take it _from her stirred her up in the worst way. It put her in the mood for a fight. Winning was what mattered; if being Head Witch was the prize than she supposed she would lead the damn witches. He was to keep out of it.

She knew Kid wouldn't listen to her. She knew he would try to interfere. She could see it in the stiffness of his shoulders, the sharp slant of his eyebrows, and the flaring of his nostrils. He had pursed his lips at her words and pulled away, leaving her hands hanging in the air. 'No,' his voice was flat, his eyes sharp. 'That is unacceptable.' Sigh just shrugged.

'Not your call, Kid. Sorry.' She wasn't even angry with him; this was just fact. It was only natural, she supposed, that Kid would be irritated at the thought of someone trying to kill her. But Sigh couldn't let him stop them. It would simply be seen as a reaper attacking witches, old, bad blood rearing its ugly head yet again. It was unlikely it would be interpreted as defensive on his part, especially when news of it reached the greater populace of witches. Considering Kid's status in the world of immortals the entire thing could escalate to the point where recent negotiations would crumble. Relations would slide back into overt hostility. Sigh _refused _to be the death of diplomacy.

But Kid made it clear he wasn't going to be cooperative with her plan. His stance was unwavering; he even had the gall to demand she move in with him, for the time being. Of course that had escalated into a separate fight, one that only ended when she transported him -a talent she hadn't know she had until this very moment- several blocks away. Liz and Patty stared at the spot where their meister had once stood with fascination in their eyes. In his place was a maroon tulip, growing from the rug. 'Sooo…did you turn our meister into a flower?'

So Sigh coerced Kim, Angela, Alisa, and Lisa, bribing and begging to ensure Kid's hands were tied in regards to this matter. He would not be able to confront the witches directly in their realm. Nor would he be privy to any witch gossip that may have wiggled its way into Death City. If he was not with her here he was against her. It was that simple.

Although the thought left a sour taste in her mouth. She shook it to the side.

The witches of Death City had accepted her request with grim solemnity. As chaotic as their species was, there were rules and guidelines for such things. They understood the implications of Sigh's challenge, just as they understood the strict denial of outside interference.

The next step of Sigh's plan was entirely self-reliant. Her transportation magic was shaky at best, and the most she could do was take them a few kilometers outside the city. But it was enough of a distance that it would take members of Shibusen a while to get themselves together and hunt her down. She stayed allusive by bouncing around locations with no pattern. All this prep-work would make it impossible for anyone to come to her aid in a timely manner. Using Shibusen as a radial point, it would take the average student 20.678 minutes to make it to her and prep themselves for battle. Even if a graduate were to attempt interference, their increased speed (not including Maka and Soul, with their flight, but who were mercifully assigned to Canada, at the time) would allow them a travel time of 12.03 minutes. And since most fights can be determined within the first five minutes it was unlikely anyone would catch Sigh in the act.

It was unlikely anyone would know she was dead until much too late.

Sigh knew what she had to do. And she did it. As was her nature.

It had taken Kid eight days and seven of Sigh's fights to realize what she was doing. He was lagging, but it was partially due to his two-day mission. Despite all her preparation she knew that he would eventually catch on; she had simply hoped for later rather than sooner.

The fact that he found her the eighth day was entirely her own fault. She had been able to save the Shibusen library from the witch's flame but the fight had escalated a little too quickly for her to drag them out of the city without leaving residual magic in the air. It wasn't much; most humans couldn't detect it. But to a reaper of Kid's caliber it _reeked _akin the smell of burning flesh.

_Sigh's _burning flesh.

He had stormed into Anne Dune's cottage as Sigh dressed a burn on her arm, his eyes flaring and accusatory. She didn't know how he found her there; she was using Soul Protect and she had never let him know of her burgeoning friendship with the seelie woman. Truth be told, Sigh was only there because the little cottage was the shelter closest to the conclusion of her fight. Her clothes had been worse for wear; the more blocks she had to walk the more attention she garnered. It was bad enough she would be seen as ditching work because of that stupid witch.

Anne Dunne had opened the door to a bruised and burned Sigh standing on her doorstep, looking snarky and wounded. To the Bean Teeg's credit she had simply sighed and let the younger woman in. Discrepancy in the world of the witches was felt through the veins of the fae like a shot of adrenaline through the species, and Anne could confer what the younger woman had been up to. With a swish of a cedar switch a small sweat-suit became large enough for Sigh to squeeze into and a pot of tea was brought to boil. Ms. Dunne- who insisted on being called Auntie- was admittedly very good at being a caregiver.

Sigh's burgeoning relationship with Auntie was one of those details in her personal life that seemed unworthy of mention. After all, Sigh and Kid were among those protecting the world from its determined spin into madness. Something like new friendships with old acquaintances seemed petty when they could be talking about much heavier topics. Ms. Anne's home became a secret sanctuary for Sigh, as she was taught to dress her own injuries and learned the mysterious ways of the fae. She knew Anne didn't fully approve of her ongoing battle with the witches any more than Kid did but, unlike the young reaper, the fairy knew her place in the matter.

The way Kid charged Sigh's position on the couch had the young woman curling tighter into the cushions. Anne had left for the market some time before, entrusting Sigh with her home as she was wont to do on her busier days. Sigh had left the door unlocked because, again, she hadn't expected anyone but Auntie to come through those doors. Kid's aura had tackled her so quickly she barely had time to react.

Sigh's eyes widened and her body froze at Kid's approach, unsure whether she should fight or flee. Logically, this was the man who claimed fondness for her, the one who was taking the time to court her gently and to accommodate her insecurities and restlessness. It would be silly to be afraid of such a man. But the look in his eyes suggested fire and wrath, a maelstrom of frustration and fury that scalded like a boiling pot upended on her head. She fought a wince as his fingers brushed a bruise on her cheek and he pinned her eyes to his.

'Stop. It,' he growled into her face. The tense, careful way by which he moved his body had told her he was on the verge of some form of tantrum. However, Sigh forced herself to recover enough to raise an eyebrow at him, mouth set stubbornly. She could have lied. Poorly, but still. Claimed ignorance to his fury and the reasons for it. Claimed that he was overreacting to nothing. She had simply fallen down the stairs…_fire _stairs (to explain the burns) and it was nothing to be concerned about. But she was tired and sore and had been looking forward to a quiet evening of healing and recovery and tea, with a dear friend. What fucking right did he have to come barging in?

'_No._' Kid's eyes widened in disbelief before narrowing once again. She couldn't be sure whether he was surprised at her challenge or surprised at her lack of effort to avoid confrontation. His touch was almost a caress as he pulled away abruptly, eyes grazing her form and taking count of her injuries. The temperature of the room dropped dramatically, goosebumps rising on Sigh's skin. She could feel Auntie's plants drooping in lethargy, the life force in them depressed as the reaper flexed his power before him. Sigh kept her face impassive.

'I'm not _asking_ you, Psyche,' Kid's voice was frigid, his mouth tight at the corners. 'I'm _telling _you-'

'Did you hit your head on the way in?' Sigh scoffed. "'Cause you don't "tell" me _shit._ I'll do as I please.' Kid's nostrils flared. 'Not this time, Psyche. I'll not permit you to continue endangering the lives of Death City's people with your antics. Your carelessness-'

'What "carelessness"? I don't even fight in the city! If you wanna talk about careless fights you should talk to a couple of those students at Shibusen. How much property damage have _they _caused?' Kid grit his teeth. 'We're not talking _buildings, _Psyche, and magic is hardly limited by distance. One false move and you could involve innocent civilians in a game!'

'It's not a game!' Sigh snarled. 'It's my _life _I'm fighting for!'

'No,' Kid rumbled coolly. 'Surely if it was _that _important you would accept help. You would not be so _silly, _so _proud, _that would hide this from those who would come to your aid? Would you risk your own life for the sake of pride, Psyche? No, for you are an _intelligent _woman. Or am I mistaken?' Sigh's fingers twitched with the sudden desire to strike the smug look from his face. 'It's not that simple,' she growled in barely contained rage. 'Not that you can see anything beyond your self-imposed "justice".'

'There is nothing more simple than life and death, Psyche. And if you are fighting death matches for amusement then your foolishness _disappoints me_.'

'I'm not doing it for _fun, _you ASS, I'm defending myself! Which is necessary to _live! _Is that black and white enough for you? That I'm fighting my own damn battles and you should keep your nose out of it? NO ONE ASKED FOR YOUR HELP! I shouldn't have even had to go to _these_ measures, I should've just been able to tell you to STAY OUT OF IT, MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS-'

'My _BUSINESS_?' Kid roared. Sigh's loss of control appeared to have stripped it from him as well. 'You _are _my "business"! How can I just ignore this threat to you? How am I supposed to ignore ATTEMPTS ON YOUR LIFE like it's NOTHING? Like _you're _NOTHING? The POINT of being in a relationship, the POINT of courtship is to learn to RELY on one another. To BELIEVE IN each other. Do you think so LIGHTLY of me, so LIGHTLY of _us, _that you would dare to assume this isn't worth me knowing?'

'This is not about "us_" _It's about ME! It doesn't matter who I fucking _date _I'm still _me _andI still have my own goddamn problems! I don't need you to rush in and save me all the goddamn time!'

'OUR PROBLEMS Psyche! The point is to WORK TOGETHER!'

'IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!'

'STOP BEING A CHILD!'

'YOU'RE BEIN' SO FUCKIN' BACKWARD RIGHT NOW-'

'SPEAKING LOUDER THAN ME DOES NOT MAKE YOU RIGHT!'

Sigh was not ashamed to admit that she had thrown the first punch, her movements sluggish and tired from her fight. He deflected her easily, and she found herself pinned to the wall within seconds. She should have been able to throw him off her, like so many of their more playful skirmishes, but the impact jostled the injuries under her clothes and she gasped painfully, eyes widening. Confusion undercut the anger in Kid's face. His hand was on the hem of her shirt before she could stop him.

She could only imagine what her torso looked like. Her shirt had been a smoldering strip of cloth, barely retaining her modesty, by the time she made it to Auntie.

Kid took a stuttered breath, one hand clenching her shirt as he held it in the air. Cool fingers gently began to prod at her injuries. 'Damnit Sigh,' he mumbled. 'DAMNIT.' He pulled her shirt down to glare at her. 'Aloe?' She nodded, averting her gaze. 'Auntie has some on the windowsill above the sink.' As he slammed about the kitchen, muttering curses to himself, Sigh situated herself back into her corner of the couch. She tried to continue binding her arms, but found herself unable. She felt him sit beside her, a flicker of fabric telling her he had shucked his jacket to the table. Something hard fell to the floor. Kid seemed not to hear it, still muttering indecencies and crushing the aloe into a little bowl.

'Take your shirt off.' She obeyed silently, beta hands carefully cupping her modesty as she was reminded of her braless state. Kid smeared goo onto her torso with a gentleness he didn't feel at the moment, unaffected by her bareness. 'Damn it, Sigh.' She didn't respond, her eyes trained on the little velvet box now resting on her floor, near her abandoned sandals. Unable to bear the curiosity any longer, she snatched it from the floor before he could register her actions.

It was a dainty thing -fitting perfectly into the palm of her hand- and was made of a velvet so smooth she thought it was soft leather. The hinges on the back were cool on her skin, her palm beneath the box clamming. It didn't take her long to figure what must have been inside. But she couldn't bring herself to open it, to confirm her suspicions. She was frozen in abject terror, unable to retreat. What would it mean if she moved forward? If she opened this Pandora's box…

They had only been together…_truly _together…for a month now. But they had been friends for years. And the way he looked at her sometimes made her so stupidly happy. Cripplingly happy in a way she had never known…

But in the same breath she knew they weren't..._right. _She loved him, she knew, and she hoped he loved her...but it seemed most of their communications were passive, canned. Business seemed to be their default with one another when they weren't sparing or kissing. And it seemed to her, novice in relationships though she was, that there should be more to a relationship before it was deemed worthy of union. It seemed to her that they should have a connection like Maka and her Soul, Tsubaki and her Black Star. Unspoken glances and careful touches...

Sigh looked up at Kid. He had ceased his ministrations upon seeing the box in her grasp, and he now locked her with a hard gaze. The silence was deafening, his eyes carefully passive but the barest of wrinkles were at the corners of his eyes and his lips were pursed. Sigh swallowed hard. 'Kid,' she heard the tears in her voice and took a shuttering breath. 'Kid, I-'

'No.' Although he spoke softly his voice was heavy as he gently brought his hand to cover hers. Her fingers wrapped about his wrist like she was scared of floating away. 'Not now. This is not…not how I want to do this.' Sigh nodded, aggressively scrubbing at the tears on her face. Kid pulled the box from her palm gently, setting it on the coffee table. A careful hand guiding her to rest her head on his shoulder, his fingers applying salve to her back.

'I don't like fighting with you,' he muttered into her ear. 'Just...let me ride in on an absurdly white horse, one that has obviously never seen battle, climb down in armor too heavy be truly effective, attack with a broadsword unfit for close combat, and save you.' Sigh sobbed a laugh. 'I'm not one for fairy tales, Kid. I don't need anyone to save me.' She felt his body tense before he forced himself to relax. He refused to re-enter their fight.

'If you insist on doing this to me-'

'I'm not doing this to hurt you, I-'

'-promise me you'll win,' he whispered fiercely into her ear. 'Promise me you'll win _every single time_. If I can't have their promise they'll let you live, I need yours that you'll be victorious. Otherwise…' his fingers dug into her hip. '…if anything happened to you…I can't guarantee my own actions.' She nodded against his shoulder, wrapping her body about his. As he turned his nose to her cheek she moved to catch his lips with her own. Their mouths brushed gently before he pulled away, an irritated look on his face.

'No,' he sniffed. 'You're being punished.' Sigh raised an eyebrow before two hands grasped his jaw and two reeled him in by his shirt. His chest could protect her bareness, and even if not, who cared? While courtship was novel in theory –she felt valued and respected, truly she did- she was growing steadily hungrier as time wore on. Jolts of epicurean satisfaction and feminine pride would overcome her as she watched him. His determined stride and his deep voice and the viscous heat hidden in his professional gaze. Sometimes she pondered the consequences of dragging him into an empty classroom after hours, to muss his hair and tilt his tie and nip his neck….only to find herself reigned from her visions out of respect for their agreement.

But damn it, sometimes she swore that the way his pants hugged him was the source of all sin in the world.

She jammed her lips against his, forcing her tongue into his mouth when he attempted to scold her. 'Oh, please,' she snorted as she kissed the corner of his mouth. 'What's the point in punishing yourself, too?' And she needed...she needed him to remind her of one of the good things about this relationship, something she knew they were doing right. Although physical attraction was a cave painting compared to the massive mosaic that composes love…

Kid growled and turned his head. 'You're not going to win, Psyche. At this stage in our courtship I should barely be able to kiss your hand.' He wrapped his arms about her waist, startling her when he flipped them around. He pinned her arms before leaning in close, breathing into her face. 'And even then you'd be considered a loose woman.' Sigh was certain he was going to kiss her, and allowed her eyes to fall shut.

They startled apart as the door to the cottage slammed open. Anne Dunne stood with her hands clenched on her grocery bags, one grey brow raised. 'And what do you believe you're doin' in here, you two rascal cats in heat?' Anne grabbed Kid by the ear and, with a twist of the wrist, ripped him off Sigh.

'OW! Ow, ow, ow, ow! You insane old fairy! What the H-'

'Shut your cornhole, you disrespectful pretty boy! I'm no longer on your payroll! And here I thought you two were honorin' the good old ways, maintainin' your sweetness for as long as possible? What happened to traditional courtship? This hardly seems proper and WHERE IN THE GREEN GABLES IS HER SHIRT?' Well acquainted with screaming older women and Kid being bullied by them, Sigh sat up with a mere grumble. 'Auntie, I wasn't expecting you for another few hours.' Anne set her bags by the coffee table, snorting.

'Oh, I can see that, girlie. Cover yourself before your clovers freeze off.' Embarrassment had Sigh snatching her shirt back over her head as Anne sat beside her on the sofa, purposefully leaving no room for Kid. 'Honestly, I let you rest here as a comfort to you, not a way to soothe the fire in your bones. And I did not bring your beau here for you to-'

'YOU?' the bolt of betrayal Sigh felt through her spine left her feeling mildly nauseous. 'Auntie, you told him where I was?' Anne nodded, no regret on her face. 'I sure did. And let him know of all that you've been up to. It seems to me-'

'How could you do that?' Sigh couldn't help the whining shriek her voice sounded like. 'I trusted you! I came to you to help me keep this hidden! I can't believe you just _told him _when I made it clear to you that I wanted to keep this low key-'

'Don't I get a say in this?' Kid snarled between his teeth. 'She did the right thing in telling me; Sigh you're in over your head.'

'There you go again!' Sigh snapped back at the nearly forgotten reaper. Their moment of tenderness went up in flames. 'Would it kill you to have a little faith in me? Or am I always just to be burden to you? Some obligatory ward?' Before Kid could respond Anne slammed her palm to the table. 'ENOUGH. Both of you! Sigh, I brought him here not to thwart whatever mission you believe yourself to have, but to help you find a way to solve this puzzle!' The old woman sighed rubbing the center of her forehead. Honestly, young people gave her such a headache!

'There's more to this than you allow yourself to see. I'd bet my left eye there's something here that you're too busy beating down to get a good look at.'

'What's there to see?' Sigh sneered. 'A couple of ignorant racists trying to burn me at the stake?'

'Considering the life you're involved with it would be wise not to take things at face value,' Auntie scolded. Sigh made a face. 'Fine. Facts. What I know is a) there's a faction of witches hidden in the coven that do not appreciate me hanging around. b) this faction is led by someone who's been systematically been sending cronies to kill me. c) if I beat back enough of them eventually they should get the hint-'

'Wait,' Kid said slowly, a calculating look on his face. When he turned to her his gaze was ponderous, determined. 'Sigh, is there a pattern to these attacks that we should know about? Do they attack at a certain hour? A certain day? Is there a certain amount of time each battle lasts?' His prodding questions made Sigh think a bit deeper as well. 'No, the attacks seem random. They never really change. I can't see-' Her eyes widened as a thought occurred. 'No…wait…' truth be told, something had been bothering her about the attacks. She had just been too busy defending herself, too buzzed on adrenaline and fury to really look into it-

Sigh stood up so quickly the others in the room jumped a bit, watching her as she bolted for the door. 'Sigh? Where are you going?' She barely allowed herself time to answer Anne's question over her shoulder as she pulled the door shut behind her. 'Shibusen! The library!' And she was gone.

She had left her broom at her apartment and forgotten her shoes on the floor of Anne's living room. But she hardly felt the cobblestones digging into her feet, the curious gazes following her in her rush. Large footsteps soon caught up to her, longer legs enabling Kid to outdistance her. Wordlessly, he scooped her into her arms and continued to sprint down the street, carrying her like she weighed no more than a doll. 'To the library then?' She nodded under his neck, arms draped over his shoulder. 'I'm so stupid, Kid. So damn stupid I can hardly stand myself sometimes…' His only response was a squeeze on her thigh. Down the street, up the stairs, and past the questions of teachers in the halls of the school.

He didn't set her down again until they stood in the Level Four library. He was unfazed by their three mile run but his hair was delightfully tousled as he watched her, waiting for her next cue. '_Kitabu!' _Her command was vague but her intent was made clear in her magic. Instantly, books from the sections on religion, astrology, and natural science landed at her feet in a rush. 'I need…I need...no, no, wait...DAMN IT...I need...' Kid grasped her shoulders forcing her to look at him. 'Okay, wait. You have to tell me what's going on. I can't help you unless you _tell me._' Sigh shook her head to clear it. 'Y-yes. You're right. Sorry. I just…get overwhelmed with my own thoughts sometimes.' Kid smile lopsidedly. 'Yes, I know. Your brain moves faster than your body, it seems.' She glared at him half-heartedly. 'Well, whatever. At least my brain isn't prone to self-defacing implosion.'

'That was below the belt, Psyche.' She smiled a small smile before falling into seriousness once more. 'Their attacks have been increasing in frequency and power,' she gathered the books and dumped them on a nearby table. 'I thought it was strange…I mean, at first it was just peons for me to pick off. Worms and flies and cotton candy, even. Now I've got full-on elementals breathing down my neck. They hit me harder and harder, and the more I defeat the faster they bounce back, fully healed or not. It's almost like they're-'

'Desperate.' Kid pulled out the chair for her to take her seat. 'It's like they feel some sort of time limit.' Sigh nodded. '_Exactly._ So not it's a matter of figuring out what sort of limit they think they have, and where I stand on it.' She shook her head. 'Basics, basics...what day is it?' A vague look of confusion appeared on Kid's face. 'The 10th of June, I believe.'

'_Right. _That's a start. I've got this...' When she failed to say more he helped himself to the seat across from her, scooping up a book on the behavioral patterns of animal-witches during the full moon. After several minutes of silent reading Sigh spoke again. 'Bibi once mentioned that my mother was…_inventive,_ is the friendlier term.' Sigh flipped through the pages of her next book -one that appeared to be on the effect of the sun on blood- furiously. 'Aisha was a wiccan, Kid, and so many people don't know what that means, don't know all that it entails. She relied on nature to supply her power, on the natural determination of man and the soul. She discovered the true potential that lies in watching the earth and the sea, the moon and the stars,' Sigh looked up, pinning his gaze to hers. 'The sun. All these things feed magic, if used properly. And under the assumption that I can also utilize this power to my benefit…'

'10th of June,' Kid muttered catching onto the theme. 'We're only days away from the Summer Solstice.'

'It's the end of one season and the start of another. A blurred point where magical hoo-doo is rampant. Just…_out there _for the taking. If I can channel it like Aisha, or if my enemies think, for even an _iota _of a minute that I can-'

'They'll try to get rid of you before you blossom into a real threat.' They sat in silence a moment, just looking at each other and their discovery. Sigh's fingers were fisted so hard they began to bite her palms. 'Have you ever been able to…utilize this potential skill before?' Kid's voice was low and cautious. Sigh shook her head. 'I don't think so…if I had, I've never been in a fight to really use it. It was just a story, I thought Bibi was blowing smoke…' Kid's hand covered hers. 'They fear it so much…I'm tempted to tell you I approve of you using it,' his face screwed like he had tasted something sour. 'But, in the same breath, I'm not sure I approve of you using such an unknown. The only person who could teach you how is long dead and I fear you would be eaten alive by your own magic.'

Sigh gently pulled her hand from under his. 'But the fact that they fear it so much, fear what I could do with it, makes me believe I could do great things. I could be something great, Kid.' The young reaper sighed, closing his eyes. 'Are you truly ready for such a thing?' Sigh thought a moment. 'No,' she whispered. 'I don't think I am…but if they think I am, and that I have…do you think that would be enough to draw out their leader? Cut off the head of the snake?'

'Possibly.'

'It could all be over in one battle. All I have to do is lay a trap.' Kid reopened his eyes and leveled her with a steady stare. 'Theoretically, it could work,' he muttered.

'Yes.' The next silence that fell was pregnant.

'Kid-'

'Sigh-' startled by the sound of each other's voice they paused for a moment. Sigh beat Kid by mere seconds. 'About earlier...it got out of hand, didn't it?'

'We lost our respective tempers,' Kid consented. 'It's not something we should be proud of.' Sigh shook her head. 'I don't know...I don't know...' That stupid velvet box was stuck in her head, now, and she felt it like a weight on her. 'I can't...we can't do this right now.' Kid furrowed his brows. 'This?' Sigh scowled down at her fingers. The sensation of being close to tears returned. '_This, _Kid. I mean, when we're not fighting we're not...doing anything. I mean, is this really something we want to do? Or is it just us acting like we think we should, like we should be at this stage in our lives?' Because everyone else was settling down around them. Soul and Maka married, Tsubaki and Black Star might as well be. Clay had proposed to Liz and whatever was happening with Patty and Zephyr was definitely going somewhere. Sigh had the sneaking suspicion that Patty was going to end up in wedlock, not that she would bring it up before the blonde.

'I don't want you to be pinned down with my issues. Especially when it feels like we're not getting any closer to knowing each other-'

'That's not true!' Kid's shock wore off and he interrupted. 'We were friends first, Sigh, we got to know each other-'

'What's your favorite color, Kid?' Sigh's dull whisper cut him deep. 'Favorite food? Your mother's name?' She leveled him with an even stare. '..._your_ name?' Kid stiffened visibly as she unintentionally cornered him. It hadn't been her intention to make this uncomfortable. She never wanted to hurt him, and she doubted that would ever change. Which was why she had to stop this now, if necessary, before either one of them became too absorbed. Her mouth pouted and she felt her throat constrict. Because really, this whole thing did seem so unfair to him. The look on his face was difficult for her to decipher. Something between crushing disappointment and boiling frustration. 'Kid...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for wasting your time I-'

'THERE YOU ARE," the Librarian seemed to descend from nowhere, startling tears from Sigh's eyes. She wiped her face furiously as he made it to her table, too blinded by fury to note the aura or her guest. Kid seemed to have faded into the shadows of the shelf behind him, near invisible if she hadn't known he was there. 'And I bet you think you can just leave when you want to, eh? That you can just go off whenever you please because of your precious "connections"? Well, I have news for you, Missy! This is a job just the same as any other you've had and you can't just make your own schedule on a whim!' He huffed an affronted sigh, ruffling the thick mustache on his upper lip. 'And the mess you left on Level Three! Is there some reason I should know for you _setting a fire _in a library filled with old books? Hmmmm? Is there your way of putting in your two weeks? I'll see you in my office. NOW.' He turned on his heel without bothering to see if Sigh followed, although she knew if she didn't her job was as good as compromised. Connections -or, now, _former _connections- to Kid or not.

So she stood and took a deep breath, carefully avoided Kid's eyes lest they break her resolve. 'We'll still be friends though, okay? Like you said, we know how to be friends.' She didn't want to think of walking away as a retreat, but that's what it was, in the end-"

She sighed as she walked through the halls of Shibusen in the early morning. In her hand was a cup of decaf tea, a bagel hanging from her mouth absently as she eyed the clipboard in her hand. There was a staff meeting later, perhaps concerning the fate of two of her students who had lit the laboratory, named Stein's Lab, on fire. Frankly she wanted them to have one more chance, although this was technically their third "one more chance" and there was very little she could say now to save them. She had always had this issue regarding her connection to her students. She seemed keen on making excuses for their mischief, like a mother hen protecting her brood. It actually worsened with the advent of her pregnancy (not that her peers knew that…yet) and one could claim she gave no shits, whatsoever, to the misbehavior of her children.

So long as they respected her, that is.

She never got to finish her story with her husband, as they had been startled out of their time alone by him suddenly sitting up stock-still, eyes to the east. Her story had frozen in her throat, waiting for him to tell her what was a miss. His only response was a grim "that was a rather large bomb" and the mood was thusly ruined. They stayed until the sun rose but Psyche couldn't bring herself to take the reins of the story once again.

Despite the late night her fatigue seemed deeper than mere sleeplessness. She simply wanted to sit down for a bit and meditate, or be within herself. A nap didn't seem necessary but being with people would drain her a bit, today. She sighed a second time and rubbed at her forehead with her wrist, trying to calm the headache before it occurred.

"Alright students," she spoke as she entered the classroom, not bothering to look up from her notes. "Today we'll be examining the physiology of grimlins and how-" when she finally let her eyes scour the room she was met with a surprise. One that certainly explained the strange calm in the room. Normally the room would be a mass of laughter and chaos, and she would have to make a few threats before it settled completely. Kids would be kids, after all. But today her students were all in their seats, granting rapt attention to her uninvited visitor, sitting in _her _chair, who had been telling a story before she interrupted.

His eyes lit on hers with a mischievous glint, a very human hazel, tousled dark blonde hair falling gently upon his forehead. He was wearing the black suit she remembered him putting on that morning, one without a tie, and with the top button of his shirt undone, with his expensive black monks resting on her desk. When she didn't move from her stationary position his amused eyes flicked into worry, and he pulled himself up to approach her. "You alright, Love?" She blinked, a wrinkle appearing between her eyes as she remembered herself.

"What are you doing here Dea…_David? _David Black. To whom I am married." He smiled gently and spoke loud enough for her students to hear. "Well, I was just introducing myself to your students. You're so _secretive _about them I simply couldn't let the opportunity pass. I used to teach here myself, you know."

"Did you?" a girl with dark brown hair spoke. "Why don't we remember you?" Death shrugged. "It was quite some time ago. Before your grandparents were born, I'd wager." Laughter skittered around the classroom at the perceived joke. "But now I do other things."

"You still work for Shibusen?" It bothered Psyche that her students weren't raising their hands, but Death overlooked it. "In a manner, I suppose you could say that, yes." Natsu snorted. "Frankly, Dude, we're all surprised you're real. Ms. Lithe never talks about you."

"Yeah, you don't exist."

"Did she pay you to be here?"

"Wow, that would be super pathetic…"

"She must be lonely." Psyche grit her teeth. Kids these days…

"No," she ground out eventually, although Death's amusement seemed to be growing with every question. "I assure everyone here that this is, in fact, my husband. But I am a _professional _and my personal life has nothing to do with my work. Now if you'll all open your book _Creatures Amongst Us_ we can continue reading on page-"

"Now, hold on," Psyche's glare was so acidic a few of her students hissed in sympathy as she turned to her husband. Honestly, she was in no mood for this; she wanted him to go away now. "I came down here with a purpose."

"To make yourself known? Congratulations, mission _accomplished. _Now class-"

"No, slow _down. _I'm not here to frazzle you. Class doesn't officially start for another three minutes, you know." He wrapped his arms around her back, strategically laying his hand on her burgeoning belly. Formally hidden by her loose top, his gesture drew attention to her state. "I think it's time you told them." She wriggled a bit, trying to casually edge his hand away from the new curve to her figure. But he held her firmly; she could not remove his hand without drawing absolute attention to his actions.

"I will, eventually."

"In the next decade?"

"Maybe the next century."

"You're running out of time and clothes."

"I still have plenty of-"

"And why do you let them call you 'Ms.'? Do they have any idea how many PhD's you have?'

"Tell us what?" Charlotte was the most extroverted student Psyche had ever encountered. She held no qualms about screaming what she was thinking; especially when it potentially meant she could get a bit of gossip to send to the rumor mill. Psyche pouted. "It's nothing worth mentioning. It's just-"

"I'm pleased to be here for the grand announcement that my wife and I are expecting our first child!" And the way Death grinned lit up the room so wildly Psyche felt it scorch her ear.

And the class exploded.

"I KNEW IT."

"You owe me ten-"

"When are you due? Are you still going to teach?"

"Does this mean finals are cancelled?"

Psyche felt her eye beginning to twitch as she looked up at her students. The cat was officially out of the bag and, as expected, they were causing an enormous ruckus. She wouldn't be surprised if by the end of the day the whole damn world knew; already she could see several students messaging their friends in other classrooms. God, this day was going to be _exhausting _now. Accepting congratulations and declining requests to touch her stomach and nodded at unwanted advice. She was already tired and could hardly guess her husband's motives in doing this to her. She shook her head, catching the gaze of Natsu when she reopened her eyes. The young man was uncharacteristically silent, staring at her in a way that was careful and inferential. Coming from him, the look was mildly concerning.

Death held up a hand and although he wasn't wearing a mask his authority was tangible in the sudden silence of her classroom. How could they not tell who he was? Was she teaching idiots? "Now, I didn't tell you all this to stir you up. Rest assured, your teacher is still fully capable of performing her duties and will be around at least until the end of the semester. So, in regards to tests, don't get your hopes up." Audible groan from the students. "However it has come to my attention that she won't be able to hide her state from the more perceptive of you much longer, and since she seemed loathe to come forward I took it upon myself-"

"No one asked you to!" She snapped at him, turning her head to glare at him.

"But I did. So you're welcome!"

"I'm not saying thank you!"

"That's so rude! I came here just to see you-" and since he was still holding her so sweetly and obviously had no idea of her intentions she grasped him about the head and threw him to the ground, his back striking with a CRACK. Shocked, he could only gaze up at her as she grabbed him by the collar and drug him to the door.

"**You're done. Leave**," the angry growl in her voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and left no room for argument. He stood and tried to mask the fear in his voice by clearing his throat. "Very well then. I'll see you for dinner." Before he could turn she roughly grabbed his face, placing a gentle kiss upon his jaw. "You do anything like this to me again," she whispered into his face "and you'll find yourself incapable of making any more children." Lord Death leaned in close. "Trust me, this was the only way I could think of." The tone in his voice caught her attention. Throwing a quick glance over her shoulder at her students, Psyche pushed her husband further into the hall. "This wasn't just you stepping on my toes again?"

"Unfortunately, no. There's been an incident recently that required our attention. And I fear that we must let people know of your import sooner rather than later." She crossed her arms, and bit back a nasty retort to his overprotectiveness. "So this 'incident' required you to share my secret?"

"Yes. It is a direct threat." He seemed debate with himself before he spoke again. "I don't think I've expressed to you the rarity and value of reaper children they…they possess a lot of untapped potential and if they were to fall into the wrong hands at a young age…I doubt it would bode well for the world." Asura popped into her head, and Psyche frowned. "You don't know our baby is a reaper."

"But I _do,_" his voice was pained, a ring of gold appearing in his eyes as his cover began to fade. "I can _feel _it." Psyche blinked. "What is this threat?" She changed the subject. "What does it have to do with me?" Death moved to speak again but was interrupted by the bell.

"Class has started," he dodged her question. "We'll talk later." Psyche didn't like this, but Death fully embraced -and seemed to enjoy- the cryptic nature of his job. And she sometimes found it within herself to indulge him. So she squeezed his arm and turned back into her classroom.

"Hey, Teach," Natsu had snapped out of whatever trance he had fallen into and was currently balancing his pencil on the tip of a calloused finger. His partner, a nunchaku weapon named Josie, was looking at him very intently. "Glad to see you guys still have the spark, or whatever, but mind keeping it out of the classroom? I come here to learn!"

"Shut up, Natsu!" Charlotte huffed, freckled face still pink with excitement. "This is huge news. HUGE. OMIGOD can you image how majorly gorgeous their baby is gonna be? I mean Ms. Lithe is sooo pretty and Mr. David is sooo hot and I bet their baby is gonna be a model it's gonna be a total babe-"

"Ms. Lithe? Would you like us to call you 'Dr.'? Or 'Dr.' Black? I mean PhD's were made to be respected."

Psyche sighed.

"If everyone is settled, we can get started." When Lord Death called a faculty meeting, it typically starting late evening, after all the students had gone home and the teachers were free. They were free flowing things, with a set itinerary but an open floor. Several kotasu were normally set up for the occasion, resting in a circle, with steaming tea pots, coffee decanters, and donuts on stand-by.

Today, however, the tension was palpable. There were no kotasu but a large oval table surrounded by floating screens. Glasses of water sat in front of every chair and although the meeting was taking place during one of the lunches there were no snacks to be had. Psyche pursed her lips. She hadn't seen the Death Room like this in a very long time. "I'm glad you all could make it," Death said in a goofy voice, wobbling a little on his sprig of shadow. "I know its midday and last minute, but I fear this couldn't wait any longer. Of course I will extend this lunch period for ten minutes so that those of you who usually eat this time of day have time to grab something." A bit of the tension in the room loosened.

"So what's this about?" Dr. Pillai asked from his corner of the room. "I mean, this is a little out of the ordinary, isn't it?"

"_Da_. It is always good to see you, Friend," Mr. Peoter agreed, "but is it necessary for our day to interrupted?"

"Oh, sometimes I just need to see your pretty faces. Occasionally I forget what you all look like…" His sarcasm was met by the lonely snort of amusement from Psyche. Apparently people tended to find him hard to read. Must've been the mask.

"But as for the topic of the meeting, I'll have Dr. Cullen explain. Doctor, if you would be so kind?" Dr. Cindy Cullen nodded, lifting her incandescent board to her face and playing with a few of the figures. Her labcoat was ratty and two sizes too big, her pale blonde hair lying like it had been cut by a chain saw. Her bangs were pulled from her face by paperclips and her glasses had been taped back together many times. She and Psyche were lunch buddies, as typically their class schedules synced pretty easily. The woman was completely incapable of cooking, and although she brought flavorless, nutrient-rich, mush for lunch everyday she always ended up eating some of Psyche's food. In the end Psyche had given up and simply packed enough for two people. As the woman stood, Psyche could see the solemnity in her aura, the pale hue to the woman's face. Some bad news. Her spine tingled in anticipation.

In mere moments, the screens all displayed a scene of carnage and madness. A few gasped, a few winced, a few averted their eyes. Psyche frowned deeply. "This is the scene from the most recent mission conducted by St. Augustine's School for Unique Individuals. While the footage is slightly damaged, we were able to convince them to share knowledge based off the apparent severity of the problem." The woman adjusted her glasses habitually, thin pale lips an even paler line in disapproval.

"As you can see, their mission did not go…according to plan. Several of their students were wounded while several more…" Psyche had to turn her head from the tattered, bloody, remains of a uniform. "Those that survived are conscious, but catatonic. While they are our rival school, located in the Canadian province of Nunavut, this mission took place near the border of Manitoba and Minnesota; a veritable "no man's land" for our two schools and therefore free ground. Upon speaking with the office of their Dean, this was in reality seen as an act of good faith to continue to encourage relations between us. However, what was perceived to be a mission to destroy a coven of Kishin eggs quickly turned into something…more." She rewound several seconds. "Anything before this point was lost to some sort of interference. However, we were able to catch sight of a clue as to what led to this devastation." She paused and Psyche couldn't contain her gasp.

It was a shield lying abandoned on the ground. It was dented deep in several places but the image on it was intact. It was a purposely crude drawing, a human skull with a gapping jaw like it was laughing at the great comedy of humanity. From its mouth, wagging down like the tongue it no longer hand, was a tree, massive and outward branching, its roots bursting through the back of the skull and reaching towards the edge of the shield. "Our research has shown that this symbol is the mark of an old cult known as-"

"_Caballeros de la bruja cristal,_" Psyche hissed before she could stop herself, clenching her fists. Dr. Cullen turned her attention to her fellow teacher. "I assume you've heard of them before."

"Unfortunately. If my knowledge of history serves, and it _does, _they are a hybrid of the former cult Yggdrasill and the followers of "La Bruja Cristal". Their roots go back centuries, starting hours from here. But after so long of silence they were assumed disbanded. To see them re-emerge so far north is…alarming. Their influence grew right under our noses."

"Like a cancer," Death couldn't help the angry growl in his voice, aura menacing. "They grew without notice until symptoms arose." Dr. Cullen shook her head. "Then I've got even worse news for you guys." The screens changed again, each one showing a different location. "Russia's Moshch' lyudey, China's Tèxùn Xuéxiào, Japan's Tsubaki Akademī, Turkey's Göksel Savaşçılar, the European Union's School of the Knight…and these are just a few. The number of incidents is increasing, each time leaving a remnant of _Caballeros de la bruja cristal _in their wake. Of course, we have DWMA agents in each of these locations, and their presence lessens casualties, but we cannot ignore this growing threat." Psyche felt sick to her stomach.

_After all this time…_

"I have decided to make the elimination of this cult top priority for our school," Lord Death's voice seemed far away in her haze of stress. "And I have already gotten the agreements from the EU, Japan, and Canada. This is a global threat and will be treated as such. Missions with our students will now be in teams of five, including a graduate of Shibusen or a teacher, and a witch. Meanwhile, I will build a team of eight; three recon for the sake of locating their base, and five for the mission. I-"

"I volunteer to head the mission to cut the head off the snake. Sir." The table grew silent at Psyche's interruption, Death turning to her and pinning her with his gaze. "Ms. Black," his tone remained light but she could tell she had rattled him. "I do not believe I can acquiesce with your request at this point in time." She glowered at him.

"And why the Hell not? Of everybody here I have the most knowledge of this cult and the cults that built its foundation. I am experienced in all ranges of battle, reconnaissance, and espionage. I have proved effected in wielding any number of demon weapons, some of which are sitting at this very table, and I hold the ability to allow a mass retreat should it be required of us. And _it won't be._ I am the obvious choice for-"

"In your current condition, I would disagree." Psyche's eyes widened behind her glasses.

_He wouldn't __**dare**__…_

"I'm sure everyone has heard the rumor by now. Our students can be more effective thAn an email in relaying information."

_ASSHOLE._

"And I will now confirm. It's true. Our beloved Ms. Black is expecting. Several weeks along, if I had to guess." Surprise lasted only a moment before it quickly melted into small smiles and congratulations. A bit of good news to lighten the dark tidings, it would seem.

"Ah, I knew something was off with you lately-"

"Beets, _milaya, _trust me, they are the best for the babe-"

"May I dissect them when they get a little older? I promise I can put them back together-"

"I am going to knit you the best damn booties. Are you having a shower?"

"_**You bastard.**_" Psyche's malice and fury silenced the room despite the lowness of her growl. "_**How dare you?**_" And with that, she turned and strode from the room, slamming the door on her way out.

The storm cloud that had appeared over her head remained for the rest of the day, and while her students must have noticed no one was suicidal enough to mention it. The death glares she shot at the smallest of questions was enough to silence even the nosiest of her students.

At the close of the day she shut her bag so hard the zipper snapped between her fingers. Furious, she threw it across the room, where it imbedded itself in the wall like a bullet. Sensing her anxiety her child gave her a kick in the liver. Little shit. She would remind them of that in a few years…

Stress was no good, though, as her medi-witch friend had told her repeatedly over the past few weeks. She took a deep breath.

She could not, _would not_, go home like this. She was too damn angry still; she could accidentally stab the insolent moron. Accidentally, over and over and over….

And so she went the next best place.

Anne Dunne had left this world long ago, saying her goodbyes in the form of hard language and unwanted advice. While she left no lawyer her will, she had given the deed to her little cottage to Psyche, and after several decades and none of Anne's random relatives demanding the property, Psyche had made it her own. She kept it neat and tidy, fully furnished with most of the original furniture and wall paintings. The plants ruled when she was away but they were careful to leave space for their mistress to be comfortable. It was her research cottage, for the testing of new spells and the practice of old ones and her stay-cation home when she needed space. She kept clothes and toiletries on hand for the days she accidentally fell asleep there and even counted it as a second address for her junk mail.

As she entered she bee-lined for the kitchen, slamming a kettle to the old-fashioned electric stove and rubbing at the start of a headache. The mirror above the sink rang and cut itself on. "Psyche-" she slammed a fist into the glass, shattering it. "_Bastard._"

"Psyche," now it was the mirror on the refrigerator "please, just listen-" with a push the magnets gave up and let it smash against the wall. "_BASTARD."_

"I spoke out of concern for you. You're too close to this." She glared in disbelief at the compact on the counter. What the _fuck _did she have so many mirrors?

…oh, yeah.

Because normally she could actually stand the sight of his stupid handsome face, and the sound of his voice didn't make her want to break something beautiful. Like his jaw.

"YOU BASTARD!" She picked the mirror up and shook it like it was connected to him and he could feel the violent action. "HOW DARE YOU CUT ME OUT OF THIS? AND FOR SUCH A STUPID REASON? So you think the others can handle it, huh? Those newbies who have no idea what they're up against, just what has dug its roots into the world, you actually think they stand a chance without me there? This isn't going to work without me and you know it you stupid, pompous…THE ONLY FUCKING REASON YOU TOLD THEM IS SO THEY WOULD HELP YOU HOLD ME DOWN…" she was building herself into hysteria.

_Stress is no good for the baby._

She forced herself to breathe. Death remained courteously silent. "It's a pattern, Kid, it's a fucking…" _breathe _"do you know where I went on my last trip around the world? Do I need to draw you of a map of Manitoba, Novobirisk, Xinjiang, Shimamaki, Abaci, Interlaken? I bet you if I told you the last few I could predict where the Hell they're going to pop up next. If the fucking psychos want a fight I'll bring it to their doorstep! I will not run! I WILL NOT-"

"You're my wife," Death spoke with a finality that allowed no argument. "Pregnant with my child. And I love you both to an extent of _madness._ Am I to send you on every mission you wish, despite the risk to you lives?" Psyche grit her teeth. "This is _different, _this is literally the most personal…they're still up to their same shit! It's on a bigger scale but it's still them acting up and being fucking _retarded _like they know anything about anything the fucking…they claim to _worship_ me and then pull some sadistic bullshit like this…if I just confront them-"

"They're _fanatics_," Death shook his head. "Generally, that is not a group of people receptive to logic or reason. Heaven forbid you come to them as their goddess and fail to meet all their expectations. Then what would they do to you?"

"They are going to find me eventually, anyway-"

"No," and the miasma of Death's aura emitted through the mirror was thick and hostile. "If they dare come near you, look at you, speak your name, I shall introduce them to a realm of nightmares and darkness the likes of which they have never known and shall never escape from. My family is not a game for bored mortals to play, and this is a lesson they should have learned centuries ago." Psyche leaned against the counter gazing down at her husband. "I can't…" she swallowed, wrath waning. "I can't let anyone get hurt because of me. This is my fault…I should have seen this coming. I mean, I saw it at the fucking _ground floor_ and I did nothing. I thought it would just…go away, that human morality would overtake it." Death shook his head. "We are not perfect, Sigh, and you do not have future-sight. This is no fault of yours. What would you be guilty of? Faith? Living?" Psyche blinked the tears down her cheeks. "I don't know. Maybe?"

"Sigh," he muttered, humbled at the sight of her tears. "Come here. I'll make you dinner, and tea, and we'll talk-" the pot on the stove screamed, startling Psyche. "As you can see, I am quite capable of making my own tea," she chuckled wetly "and I have no interest in your interpretation of 'meatloaf' again." Death smiled. "Very well. Set me down, please." And she did, ignoring the sounds of struggle as she poured two cups of tea, in one of which she stirred in honey and ginger. One hand gently kneaded into her lower back, an area that was giving her an increased amount of trouble lately, as his other hand reached for her jaw and caught a tear "…I should have come through a larger mirror. I have the most terrible crick in my neck."

"Well, if you hadn't pissed me off I wouldn't have smashed the bigger mirrors."

"So it's my fault?"

"Yes." He chuckled and ducked his face into the crook of her neck. "Ugh," Psyche grumbled but wrapped an arm about his waist. "Enough with the goddamn affection. What are we, newlyweds?"

"I will never get tired of the way you smell."

"_Weird."_

"And holding you close is my respite in this dark world."

"If you think I have too much class to vomit on you, you're in for a surprise."

"…I do want you to be involved," he mumbled into her neck. "You're right, of course. The two of us probably are the most knowledgeable regarding this organization. I want you on my team. All information will flow to you, and you can be tasked with sifting having the final say on our course of action." He pulled back, leveling her with a stern look. "But the condition is you must stay in Death City. No frontlines for you, alright?" Psyche rolled her eyes away from his.

"_Psyche._"

"What."

"Say it." She huffed. "Fine. No frontlines for me…but after I drop the kid, if this shit's still going down it's _free game._ I'm on the first bus to ass-kick city."

Death glared at her.

She glared back.

"Fine."

"Alright then."

They sat on the couch and ordered a pizza, sipping their tea as they waited for their food. Although technology allowed for it to be brought in under five minutes, they had purposefully applied a delay to the delivery. That way, they could at least pretend the pizzeria had taken care in its preparation.

"You never finished the story." Psyche raised an eyebrow at her husband. "You know how it ends."

"Well, yes," he gently squeezed her feet, massaging his thumb into the sole of her foot and making her purr. "But I do like a happy ending."

"What makes you think the end is happy?" And although she spoke in jest Death leaned his head back and closed his eyes, mouth turned down imperceptibly at the corners. "I don't," he finally sighed. "But hearing you tell it makes me believe." Psyche wished there was more confidence to her scoff. "Fine. Where was I? Oh yes. Our beautiful, graceful, kind, courageous, heroine…"

"On second thought perhaps I'll take a nap-"

"…OUR HEROINE didn't want to think of her walking away as a retreat, but that's what it was, in the end…."


	5. Chapter 5

**BB says: **Have another chapter! With another riding on it's heels…

"How does it feel?" Sigh made a face, although really, the outfit was quite comfortable and well within her sense of style. A light, cotton-blend olive-green shirt with rouched sides and a long, blue, gored skirt. It was soft and flowed freely with her, gently brushing her legs every time she turned. The only obvious difference it held from other items in her closet was the material at the front of the blouse. While it wasn't baggy it was obvious care had been given to add a fabric with more stretch, perhaps blended with spandex, that which would be able to bend with her in the near future.

She was actually grateful for the new trends in style or, rather, the fact that style had once again completed its eternal circle. Centuries ago the style for women in her predicament was large clothing, almost muu-muuish, hiding their blossoming figures behind layers of fabric and denim and big flowers. They had looked almost clownish. After that, trends swung to exposure, a lot of bare skin everywhere. Bellies suspended in air, cleavage swollen by maternity. The two bounced back and forth for years before both becoming equally accepted, eventually morphing into altering currently trendy clothing to fit.

"Is it pinching anywhere?" Death gently adjusted the skirt so that it fell more evenly, picked at the shirt to give the rouching more of a statement. He didn't normally go shopping with her -he _hated _shopping, to the surprise of anyone who knew him, and would rather have a personal tailor deliver his clothing to his home- but she supposed there had been a note of panic in her voice that morning as she confessed her mission to him. The way he had paused before turning the page on his paper, his eyes drifting up to her as she tried to hide the strange hesitation in her face. Because she was embarking on the first stages of what would be a long descent into maddening reality. She as being a bit dramatic perhaps…but if she thought about it, she didn't actually want to do this alone. She didn't want to buy clothes.

_Maternity _clothes.

Of course she had used faux surprise when he folded his paper and took a final swallow of his coffee as he stood. His quirked eyebrow and imperceptible smile made her want to kiss him breathless.

Her life-change suddenly seemed all the more real when she saw the pregnant mannequins in the window.

"Sigh," Death sounded a bit annoyed as she continued to ignore him. She shook her head before he could try to scold her. "This is really happening, isn't it?" Her husband froze at the question, obviously startled. "Yes," he said slowly after a moment of thought. "It is, isn't it?" She leaned back against him and he placed a hand on her hip as he breathed into her shoulder. "There are surrogates, you know-"

"A human couldn't take this on. And no machine is worthy of growing _my _baby."

"Ah, just thought I should mention." Sigh hummed through her nose. Death gently brushed his nose against her neck before pressing a kiss to her jaw. Watching the two of them through the mirror, she almost felt as though she was cheating on her husband with a blonde mystery man. The thought was enough that she freed herself from his arms and pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it to the side. "I like the outfit." She muttered as she dropped the skirt from around her hips. "This and maybe the dress from earlier?" Death wrinkled his nose as he tried to remember the garment. "The one with the anchors?"

"No, the yellow one."

"Ah, that was the one I preferred too. Make sure you get what you like. Reaper pregnancies gestate a bit longer than mortal ones and you may be wearing these clothes a while."

"I think I can wear them for a bit after the baby is born too. I'd hate to throw them out."

"If you don't need them anymore-"

"Ugh, but the _waste, _Kid." He hummed and gathered her discarded clothing from the fitting room. By the time she was dressed he had already purchased her outfits and was waiting just outside the curtain. He smiled gently at her –her husband's smile, not the smile of his alias- and she returned it without hesitation as she knit her fingers into his. It was a lovely Sunday afternoon although she knew he had ducked one meeting that morning to shop with her, and would assumedly need to rush off to another in the next hour. She wanted to enjoy the day regardless.

The street buzzed with people, because no matter how time moved forward it seemed the simplicity of Death City would remain the same. Certainly there were the hovering cars and tireless bicycles, the cybernetic enhancements and innovative medicines, but the people of Death City still walked nearly everywhere. Most of them preferred not to mess with their bodies aside from physical exertion. The street venders still vended, although a few had expanded their businesses to other cities as well.

"Any news I should know about?" Sigh smiled at young children as they ran by with a kite in hand. Death shook his head. "We're having a lovely day," he muttered. "I'm not sure I want to ruin it." He spoke lightly but his hand tightened around hers. She still frowned. "Then when?"

"Sigh-"

"No." Death ground his teeth in frustration. "Well…" his pause had her glancing up at him at the crosswalk. "Well?" He pulled a face. "Aside from my own sources of investigation I have also had a team analyzing the civilian news sources for any indication that _Caballeros de la bruja cristal _has become gusty enough to make their moves public knowledge. Much of the new information is unrelated, but last week a young woman living in Colorado was reported missing from in front of her office. Hardly two days later they discovered her body. It's the latest in a series of killings from across the United States, leading authorities to believe a new serial killer is on the move." He pulled his wife out of the flow of citizens, releasing her hand.

Death lifted his sleeve, revealing what looked like a classic Rolex watch inlaid with black titanium and two diamond-pocked hands on its dark face. It was impressive even without the knowledge that it could also act as a memo pad, file storage up to four terabytes, capacity to host conference calls with fifty different participants, and granted access to the internet.

Death did have to stay current.

Death rolled his wrist and pressed "Bookmarks" on the floating screen that appeared above his arm. "Before I show you," he looked at Sigh carefully. "You must promise me that you will not blame yourself for this. For any of what you are about to see, what can potentially follow, I want you to promise not to let it weight on your soul."

Sigh shrugged and averted her eyes.

"_Rehema._"

"Fine!" She snapped. She hated it when he used her given name; it always sounded so patronizing. "Just pull up the damn picture." He looked at her intensely for another moment before pressing one of the links. It loaded instantly.

And Sigh promptly went back on her promise.

It was overwhelming at first, the bodies in the screens. Varied shades of brown and red and purple and Sigh tried to grant each a scrutinizing eye before it was pulled away from her. But as she examined them the dread building in her soul was overwhelming. A pattern was emerging. She tried to tell herself it was coincidence, that her anxious mind was building clues that weren't there. A quick glance at her husband's tense face quickly destroyed that hope. She was about to ask him to take them from her sight when the clearest image of all captured her eye.

It was a young woman who looked to be barely out of her teens, kinky lavender hair loose and splayed on the flattop her body had been tossed onto. She was completely naked, bruises marking her wrists and ankles and neck, her eyes -blue, Sigh noted with a touch of horror, the girl's eyes had been blue- frozen open in shock and pain. Her lips were busted and her nose was bloody. And carved into the delicate brown skin of her back was a jagged message. Clotted blood told Sigh it had been done while the girl was still alive.

"_FALSE GODDESS."_

Sigh's gasp was stuck in her throat, her eyes wide in horror and her shaking fingers on her lips. Death pulled her into a shallow alley as she began to shake. The image vanished and she was pressed into his chest as a wayward tear escaped.

"How many?"

"…ten, so far." Sigh took a sharp breath. "All the same…?"

"Yes," he breathed into her ear regretfully, perhaps lamenting his vow to keep her informed when she hiccupped.

"They were _kids_, _babies_, _daughters-_"

"Damnit, Woman, you _promised-"_

"They didn't do anything to deserve that their only crime was looking like me they killed them because they looked _too much like me-_"

"They're psychopathic extremists and this has nothing to do with you-"

"_I __**made**__ them."_

And with that Death stiffened and pressed her so tight into himself that she was almost smothered against the cotton of his polo.

"No," he growled. "You gave these people _hope. _You gave them _love _in desperate times., And they twisted it, turned it into something despicably evil. You are no more to blame then the inventor of gunpowder is for warfare." Sigh buried herself in the smell and feel of her husband. "…I killed those girls."

"No."

"Death…"

"NO."

"Dr. Black? Are you alright?" Sigh stiffened as the familiar voice of one of her students appeared beside them. She felt Death turn his head to address the owner of the voice, who Sigh recognized as Mari. Dark blonde hair, dark green eyes, thin body with big feet. Her great-great-great-great grandmother's clone, surely. Beside the girl stood Charlotte, typing away on her phone with a candy rolling on her tongue, not truly paying attention to her surroundings. Charlotte's family had moved to Death City about ten years ago, when it had become obvious to them that although the city was one of the most dangerous places to live, it was also one of the safest. It had just seemed all too perfect when the young woman had been accepted into the prestigious DWMA as a meister.

"It's alright," Sigh heard her husband respond to the young woman. "A touch of news given at the wrong time. It's entirely my fault." He a gave a hollow-sounding chuckle. "I am perhaps the worst husband in the world."

"Shut up, you idiot," Sigh mumbled into his shoulder before looking up. She turned away to rub her tears onto her sleeve before facing her students, pulling off of Death. "Don't worry about me, girls. Just these damn hormones coupled with work-stress." Mari didn't look quite like she believed her teacher but was too respectful to dig further. Perhaps she wasn't _entirely _a Maka-clone. There was a bit of the Soul "fuck-it-whatever" in there too. Charlotte looked up at the world after she heard her teacher's voice, and her eyes quickly flickered to the older woman's hair.

"Purple? I never pegged you as the adventurous type…" Sigh stopped herself from bringing her hands to her hair, reminded she had "gone natural" for a day with Death, even in his David disguise. "Oh, this? Just a spell I was working on that went a bit awry. My hair should be back to normal by tomorrow." Charlotte shrugged. "Dunno. I sorta like it." She took a picture before Sigh could stop her, sending it off into the megaverse that was the internet. Sigh felt her brow twitch in irritation.

Mari frowned at her friend's action before bringing her attention back to Sigh. "You guys on a date? That's cute." Sigh smiled gamely. "I'm glad you approve. So what are you two doing this lovely Sunday, Miss Mari?" The girl blushed slightly. "I was going to study a bit, but Charlotte convinced me to go out. J-just to meet some friends. It's no big deal." Charlotte gave a huff but didn't look up from her phone again.

"Oh?" Sigh's smile became a knowing grin. "Natsu's going to be there, isn't he?" Mari's blush reached her hair, and Sigh worried for a moment that she had killed the poor girl. "W-w-what would make you ask that?" the young woman stammered. "I mean it's not l-l-like that or anything I don't know-" Sigh tapped her lips with a finger. "S'alright Mari. It's our secret, okay?" The girl nodded eagerly. "YEAH…but, I mean, I have nothing to hide, so, whatever." Death hid a laugh behind a cough as Sigh reached out to adjust one of the girl's braided pigtails. It was a bit lopsided. "Now you may want to get going. I assume you were on your way?" The student nodded, eager to escape her embarrassment and quickly forgetting the vulnerable moment she'd caught her teacher in. "Yes ma'am. Have a nice day."

"You too." Then young woman smiled prettily up at her teacher, gold shimmering in her hair as it caught the sun. Like Sigh, she appreciated glasses as a trophy to her studies, and had forgone the all too common surgery to lose them. Behind the lenses the olive of her eyes turned ivy with her smile and the hints of pink still in her cheeks. As she turned to vanish back into the crowd her skirt flickered in the wind and showed the bike shorts she always wore; white for every day, black for when she wielded her foil partner. Sigh was always amused at how careful the young woman was to guard her modesty, and how her peers would tease her lightly regarding that fact. Sigh was always tempted to scold them and remind them that respect for one's body was the purest form of respect one could have; but then she had to remind herself that they were children, and had far to go. Children. _Her _children.

A light hand brushed her belly.

She was almost seized by another moment of panic. It was enough that she wondered if this was to become a regular occurrence

Sigh's smile rusted and fell from her face, but she smothered the tears that were still scratching at her eyelids. "…I love my kids, Death." The reaper nodded. "Of course you do. You and I…my father would be proud of this school." Sigh pursed her lips. "That's not what I meant. That girl…those girls from the pictures…they could have been any of my kids. They could have so easily…" she turned and pinned her husband with a look that was so intense he startled, her voice darkening. "If they come near my kids, my students, current or alumni, I don't care what you or anyone else does. I will tear them apart and scatter their slivers to the wind. I will gouge out their eyes and use them to curse their souls. I will twist their forms and watch them writhe their last agonizing moments in the dust at my feet." Death's brow cinched as he was once again reminded he was married to the Leader of the Witches. "It won't come to that. They won't make it to my city."

"Colorado, Death. And they're obviously gunning for women who look like me." Her husband began to fume, perhaps at the thought of anyone "gunning" for her, perhaps at being forced to repeat himself in his determination to protect her. Sigh's eyes glimmered dangerously as they looked into his. "If they want a fight, I'll give them a fucking _war."_

It was nearly seven by the time Charlotte made it home, kicking off her shoes in the foyer and nodding at her mother. Betsey smiled the smile that her daughter had inherited, hair pinned on top of her head and a bowl in her hands. The smell of heat and cinnamon told Charlotte her mother was making snickerdoodles for her book club's bakesale. "Hello, Sweetie. Did you have a good day?" Charlotte grunted, scrolling through her phone and tossing her body into a chair at the table. "It was okay." Betsey nodded. "Ah, of course. Too cool to talk to mom about your friends now? That's mean." Her pout was insincere as she loading another batch of cookies into the oven. "Anything interesting happen?" Charlotte sighed like her mother was being horribly ridiculous in asking about her day.

"Ughhhh, Moooom I'm busy and you keep breaking my train of thought." Betsey chuckled and came to stand behind her daughter, watching the younger scroll through her pictures and posts on her phone. "Busy doing what? Killing time?"

"Mooooooom."

"Honestly, your generation doesn't know…the meaning…who is that?" Charlotte raised an eyebrow as her mother pointed at one picture in particular. "Hm? That's my teacher, Ms. Lithe. And her husband. Isn't he hot? I swear, their baby is gonna be _gorgeous. _Mari says I'm being ridiculous by you can't have genetics _like that _and not pop outta your mom pretty." Bestey didn't seem to be listening to her daughter's characteristic rambling, eyes narrowed as she continued to study the picture.

"…Ms. Lithe is a witch, correct?" Charlotte shrugged. "Pretty sure, yeah. I mean, either that or one of the other freaky things that live in this city. Like a fairy or some weirdness. When's dinner?" Betsey pursed her lips and ignored her daughter's question to ask another of her own as she studied the familiar roundness to Ms. Lithe's front. "And she's…pregnant?"

"Mom, what the heck-"

"JUST ANSWER ME." Charlotte jumped, eyes widening as she finally noticed the intensity her mother was emitting. It was terrifying coming from a woman that was known for her mild nature and quiet voice. "I…y-yeah. She told the class a while ago that she was expecting." The air was so heavy Charlotte was almost afraid her mother would snap. All at once, the aura dissipated and Betsey was smiling at her daughter again. "That's nice honey. Congratulate her on my behalf when next you see her, alright?" Charlotte nodded slowly, still looking at her mother oddly. The woman pulled away and turned to stir the pot on the stove. The front door slammed and Charlotte's father was heard approaching.

"Well it sounds like Dad's home. Go wash up, Dear, and I'll fix you a plate." Charlotte pushed away from the table, quickly brushing past her father as he entered the kitchen. Paul looked after his daughter in confusion before pressing a kiss to his wife's temple. "Good day, Bet?" She nodded with a smile. "I'd say. It looks like we have another for testing." Paul raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing. "Oh?" Betsey nodded. "The most promising yet, I'd say. That's just in my amateur opinion but-" she was cut off as her husband lifted her in the air and spun her.

"That's _wonderful _news, Bet! Think of the reward if she proves worthy of testing! Better, what if it _is_ her?"

"Dear, we must'n't count our eggs before they hatch. What are the chances she'd be hiding out in plain sight like this?" Despite her words, Betsey was smiling. "I mean, that would be awfully foolish of her."

"Yes, Dear. You're right as always."

"Besides, the legends say nothing of her being married, and this one is pregnant on top of that!" Paul clicked his tongue. "That's…_interesting, _to say the least. I would be inclined to believe the Grand Wizard would agree." Betsey hummed but before she could respond Charlotte came speeding into the room.

"OMG LISA JUST MESSAGED ME AND THERE'S A CONCERT IN THE PARK THIS WEEKEND AND I HAVE TO GO YOU HAVE TO LET ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE." Betsey chuckled warmly as her husband waved his hands, trying to calm their daughter. Just another day.

In the distance, Death and his wife walked arm in arm towards their manor. Their silence was comfortable, familiar, each left to their own complex thoughts.

"Husband," Psyche hummed. Death grunted in response. "I never finished the story." Death's hand ran down her arm to weave their fingers together. "No, you did not." Psyche huffed at the somewhat pissy tone in his voice. "Don't tell me you're annoyed with me. It's not like you don't know how the story ends!"

"It's not the destination, it's the journey." Psyche pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, debating whether or not she wanted to push her husband off the sidewalk and into the rush of traffic. Deciding that the action would only irritate him and startle the poor driver that hit him, she let the notion go.

"Well, maybe I'll continue the story then."

"Well, well maybe I want you to."

"Well, well, well maybe I don't care what you want."

"Well, well, well, well maybe I don't care that you don't care."

Psyche stuck out her tongue.

Death crossed his eyes.

Psyche giggled and Death watched his with a warm smile on his face.

"Her swagger through the city spoke of a woman centuries her junior, a cane of dark wood grasped in a long-boned hand covered in gold rings. She was tall for a woman and thinly built, pinprick breasts hidden beneath a blue dress decorated in ornate designs imitating the peacock earrings in her long lobes. Her shaven head was shiny and showed a well-shaped skull, her chin carefully high as sightless eyes stared resolutely ahead. Her stride was confident and uninhibited. There was something about her that made her feel unapproachable. Dangerous. Something that roiled beneath the smooth coffee bean of her flesh that spoke of uninhibited power and mysterious terror. It was for this reason that crowds on the sidewalk parted for her and speech halted in her presence.

Her walk was only paused by the sudden appeared of a young child. She smelled the lotion on the girl's flesh, the peach gloss on her lips. Felt the warmth radiating from her skin. The delicate lattice of mana flowing within her veins. She was very young and of the shaman bloodline. It made the tall woman smile. 'Little One,' her voice was deep and raspy and seemed to radiate through Thunder's core. 'I seek an audience with your lord, Death. Please, lead me.' The girl-child continued to stare up at her in wonder, and while the woman found it endearing she felt her patience wearing thing.

'Do answer, child. You know not with whom you toy.'

'Yeah? And who is that?' Two more appeared. One was similar to the girl, blood of a shaman in a boy. The third was thickly built young man with a deep voice and skin that smelled of shea and coco, oats and palm ash. The woman smiled. '_Wewe ni njia ya muda mrefu kutoka nyumbani, ndugu__. _Or perhaps, _Na ị na- a ogologo ụzọ si n'ụlọ, nwanne_?' Kilik blinked, pose relaxed but his muscles tight. 'Swahili's fine, no need for Igbo. I'm not the only one that's gone abroad, huh? So let's start with introductions.' The woman hummed.

'Boy, my name is lost to time and decay. Even if not, one with years that barely surpass two decades, one who is newly born on the fields of war and who bares not the weight of hot blood on his hands is hardly worthy of hearing it spoken.' She shrugged. 'But I suppose you must introduce me by something, yes? "Oshun" is the name that seems to have stuck to me with the most tenacity. Lady Oshun is what you will call me.' Kilik's eyes widened and Oshun's grin grew broader.

'You have heard of me?' Kilik tried and failed to appear casual. 'Bibi used to tell stories...' he shook his head. 'I can take you to Lord Death.' Oshun nodded.

'Very good. Thank you. Etana would be proud.' If Kilik wondered how the woman knew his late grandmother's name, he didn't mention it. He merely turned on his heel and began to stiffly lead to woman to the Death Room, trying to ignore the sense of tread she made crawl up his back.

Sigh was not one for regret. Such a thing was pointless, and it was generally best to let the past lie where it fell. It wasn't as though one could change it, reclaim words left hanging in the air, bruises and ash scatter their permanence on the wind even as they dissipate. Regret was the attempt by one's 'heart' to tear them apart. A form of suicide that far surpassed others in pain and mess. Like a cancer, it ate away at the soul and resolve until its host was little more than a husk of who they had once been, ready to be culled by the next shift in life that was too much to handle. Regret was poisonous.

But if she was entirely honest with herself Sigh would admit that regret, above all other things, was her weakness. Once the die was cast she could never resist the longing to all it back, to try again, to aim for a result that was plausible if not possible. So although she tried to continue her days without somehow feeling as though she made a grievous mistake, it was hard to ignore the abyss sitting in her chest.

It wasn't as though she couldn't avoid Kid. Although they ran in the same social circles, most times he was too busy or she was feeling too antisocial to really go out with their friends too often. Most of Sigh's communications and friendly jaunts were through messaging and pictures as she sat comfortable, bra-less, on her living room couch. If Maka knew what was going on she held too much class to ask questions and, even if curiosity nibbled at her ankles, it was swatted away by the humming contentment of the remaining "honeymoon" months in her new marriage. She and Soul had been living together for years, but she was still capable of regaling Sigh with tales of bride-ship, linking accounts and insurance and work and 'play'. Things Sigh was ignorant off and yet couldn't interrupt the blonde when she had such a look of awe and sweet love on her face.

And despite everything, she and Kid were civil whenever they happened to run into each other. Outside of hanging out, the occasional bump would take place on campus. After all, Sigh still worked in the library and Kid was still Lord Death's son and nothing that happened between them would jeopardize their professional reputations. They did not necessarily speak during staff meetings but passing in the halls of unintended eye contact would result in a nod or a faint smile. He jumped once when she gave herself a cut from the edge of a schedule and she winced sympathetically when a server mixed one too many sugars into his coffee. She never tried to initiate conversation with him and he never sought her out purposefully. His aura was strained and tame in her presence, occasionally brushing against her but quickly recoiling like she burned it. Sigh was afraid that this would be the end of a friendship hard earned but told herself that they both just needed time. Time to be rid of the taste of one another beneath their tongues.

Meanwhile, they had to pretend like neither of them felt the date hanging above their heads, like they didn't notice the sudden gap in attacks facing Sigh leading up to the suddenly foreboding date of June 20th. Both the longest and shortest day of the year and the day that Sigh would face the guillotine hovering above her head.

At least in theory.

Despite the sense of approaching danger the days without skirmishes left her with too much time on her hands. And while she occupied this time training privately or assuring herself and others that she was well -no one yet knew what was coming, no one but her and Kid and Auntie and she wanted to _keep it that way- _there were still gaps in the day that gave too great an opportunity for her doubts to chew into her soul.

What if this opponent was too much?

What if she wasn't worthy of this power?

What if she'd royally fucked up with Kid?

Only three days into their disturbingly peaceful breakup and she felt herself cracking in at a time where err could _literally _destroy her. Her meditations were properly ruined and her mind caved to a similar thought process she had once held in studying for exams.

If she wasn't powerful enough now, then like Hell she would be in a few days. This fatalist thought both comforted and annoyed her; she was relieved of responsibility for whatever occurred in the next few days, at least in her mind. In addition, it gave her an excuse to take a break and call Madame, despite the fact it was damn near three in the morning. The old woman picked up on the third ring of Sigh's second call.

'What?' Madame's voice was groggy with sleep and Sigh new that the question would have been more venomous had the woman been more awake. She adjusted her skirts beneath her to distract the fingers not wrapped about her phone, telling herself that there was not logical reason why hearing her mother's voice in a time of uncertainty should driver her to tears.

'Hey Mom,' Sigh choked on the knot in her throat. She heard the old springs in Madame's bed scream as the woman sat up with a huff, the click of her lighter as she lit up in bed; a habit that would have made any fire marshal worth their salt cringe. The phone rustled as Madame brought it to sit more comfortably on her shoulder and found her bearings before answering Sigh.

'Don't bullshit me, Psyche. It's too damn late at night for that. If you called me to cry, then fucking _cry. _Mothers are supposed to listen to that sorta shit. It's in our job description.' Sigh set her jaw stubbornly. 'I am _not _going to cry.'

'LIAR.' Sigh felt tears beginning to slide down her face. 'N-no, Madame, this is a s-social call…'

'I'm sure it's one of the cardinal sins to lie to your mother.' Madame's voice was gentle despite her accusatory words, and she sat patiently as Sigh began to gently sob into the phone. The older woman offered occasional condolences to Sigh's unexplained misery but mainly sat in forlorn silence. The interesting thing about mothers, is that they eventually come to recognize the differences in cries. Of course infants have the 'hungry', young children the 'tired'. As people grew older it could become the 'frustrated' or the 'happy' or the 'angry' tears. But those that Sigh shed now made Madame's heart ache, as she recognized the hushed despair in her daughter's gasps.

It was the cry of heartbreak.

After several hiccupping minutes of tears and whimpers Sigh wetly told her mother of all that had occurred. The witch attacks, the coming storm, her uncertainty in the species. Not her concern about dying, really, but her concern that she would never fit in with them, that they would banish her in a manner than humanity once had. She glossed over the death-threats in favor of the wary looks she received, she whispers behind her back at witch meetings.

Madame was silent until Sigh paused for a shaky breath.

'And what does my future son-in-law think of all this?' Madame was joking, of course. She had been calling Kid that even before he and Sigh had made their relationship official. But Sigh stiffened and had to fight down another round of hysteria. 'We…I…we're taking a break.' Madame paused in her lighting of another cigarette, eyes narrowing. 'Come again?'

'I…I told him that maybe we should just be friends for a while.' Madame was completely frozen in her bed, eyes dark as she allowed Sigh to sit in silence for a while.

'That _rat bastard,'_ Madame's snarled made Sigh's blood run cold. 'At the first sign of trouble, the death threats, the _fear, _and he runs for the hills?! What sorta bitch-ass fool-'

'No,' Sigh said slowly. 'I…I broke up…with him.' She heard Madame take a breath. The old woman carefully considered her next words.

'Sigh-'

'It's too late. It's over and done. We aren't right together; really, this is what I had to do.'

'But you like him,' Madame hummed. 'And he likes you.'

'Yes but we're not _going anywhere_,' Sigh argued quickly and loudly, hearing the judgement in her mother's tone. It was bad enough Liz and Patty had been giving her the silent treatment the past few days, their scalding glares the only indication they acknowledged her existence. 'It would stupid to waste our time-'

'But you _like _him.'

'I _do,' _Sigh acquiesced 'but there's no point to standing on a plateau. He doesn't want to go any further and neither do I.' Madame took a long drag of her cigarette. She was in the habit of doing that when she was about to drop some old-school knowledge on her daughter.

Madame prided herself on being rudely aloof in all her acquaintances, she had grown a certain…begrudging respect for Death the Kid. Stories of his eccentric habits and dry mannerisms reached her via Sigh since the days of the young woman's servitude. In the years Sigh had been away it wasn't too uncommon for Death's boy to show up on Madame's doorstep for tea and stories on how her daughter fared. More, after Sigh returned Madame was shocked that she still received the occasional letter from the young man, inquiring about her health and making ideal communication about recipes and rugby teams and turns in the weather. At some point he had wormed his way under the older woman's skin in a manner akin to his father; obnoxious in a charming way she wasn't certain how to process.

It had gotten to the point that Madame allowed herself unrivaled giddiness when Sigh and the reaper began dating. She had heard the breathless excitement in her daughter's voice and she too felt as though there was not enough oxygen in the world to fuel the flames of her joy.

And hearing news of otherwise seemed like a cold bucket of water dumped down her back.

'B-but we're being civil!' Sigh once again panicked at her mother's silence. 'I mean, we're not throwing shade or spreading rumors o-or glaring at each other-'

'Yeah, so maybe ya aren't making a scene. Maybe you're being "mature" about this whole thing. But the people can _smell_ something's wrong. With you and him. They're eventually going to pick sides.'

'But we're _not_ fighting!'

'Every breakup, no matter how neat, is always a fight.' Madame lit the cigarette that had been dangling out of her mouth. 'It becomes an unconscious battle of who's the least fucked up after.' Sigh made a face. 'Kid and I aren't like that. We're not petty.'

'It ain't petty to want to be happier than someone you were once happy with. And you know some part of you doesn't want him to be happier _without_ you.' Sigh opened her mouth to object but she knew the old woman was right. Kid was her friend, certainly, and she cared a great deal for him. But if he was happier without her…that implied that with her he had been hurting. Miserable. And that thought made her ache in a strange way.

Madame puffed a nicotine cloud into the air. 'All that fire, and all you can manage is a mutal "goodbye"? That's annoying. And your reasons are half-assed excuses to cover your own fear.' Madame shook her head. Sigh chewed on her lip.

'That's not-'

'Don't bother lying to me.' Sigh huffed.

'But if things were bad now… it would be a nightmare, you know? He was my friend…one of my best friends. And I knew that trying to be anything more would jeopardize that. I was being silly and blind, falling into the realm of the romantic when the platonic is clearly what we're more suited for. It was all lust. We burned out.'

'You sure about that?'

'Yes.'

'No wet dreams?'

'_Mom, seriously?' _Madame clucked her tongue. 'It's sorta a shame,' she lamented. 'The way you were around each other…I'd hoped you'd really found someone for you. It's a stupid, old-person concern…but I don't want you to be alone…when I'm gone.' Sigh blinked down at her hands, trying to process what Madame had just said. Somehow, that fear seemed more prominent when held by someone else. 'Aw, Mom. Aren't you supposed to say something to the effect that "you'll always be with me, even beyond"?' Madame gladly glazed over the serious topic. Perhaps it was for another day. 'No, Stupid. My heaven is a harem of male models and I won't keep them waiting so I can watch you snivel.' Madame made a face at the ceiling as she leaned back.

'If you're comparing your relationship to that of your little friends,' she bounced topics. 'You're being retarded. It ain't fair to him, and it ain't fair to you.' She kept speaking even as Sigh made to interrupt. 'I mean they've had _years _together. Living together, fighting together, drowning in the company of each other. Their souls knit together over time to reach this phase in their lives. You and Death Junior…you've had months at _most_. You should've taken your time. The two of you quite literally had all the time in the world.' Sigh closed her eyes. She felt rather than heard one of the candles surrounding her meditation flicker, the sudden smell of old magic stinging the air.

'I gotta go, Mom.'

'No, you gotta tell me more about these witches-'

'Bye.' Sigh hung up, although she knew there would be Hell when next she saw Madame. But she couldn't help that fact at the time. It was 11:59. And although she wasn't expecting a visit from Bibi, experience had her paying closer attention at this hour, to all that was going on about her. Usually it was for not. This night was not a usual night.

A raven sat atop her television and nearly upset a candle as it adjusted its wings. Sigh held out a steady arm and it didn't hesitate to alight upon her, its beak skimming through her hair almost affectionately. 'Evermore, child of heart and body and soul. Evermore, let blood pulse within kin and tears live only in times of drought.' Sigh used two fingers to smooth the feathers on the bird's head. 'Bibi, why-'

'She comes,' the bird whispered, purple smoke scorching at its feathers as it fought the wards of Death City and those Sigh had cast upon her apartment. 'No…she is here.'

Sigh cringed. It was still days away from the solstice and so late at night…she wasn't ready, she couldn't- 'Who?' Her voice shook. The raven cocked its head to the side.

'Oshun.' The tone was foreboding, but Sigh's begging for more information proved futile. Mabaa had released the bird from her spell, perhaps to spare it a fiery death that came from sitting amongst hostile magics. Needless to say, the next few moments of Sigh's night were spent trying to shoo a very wild and very disoriented bird from her apartment. The broom proved useless. The bird was too smart for that; it landed on the solid oak handle and cawed directly into Sigh's face. She couldn't ignore it either. Leaving the room had it following her.

And suddenly, Sigh had a pet.

Damn it…

The next morning was as any other, and the next and the next and the next. Madame somehow found the time to set up camp in Sigh's apartment, and although she continuously denied the fact she was keeping an eye on the young woman Sigh knew her mother enough to know the older woman had every intention of interfering. Sigh couldn't fault her that, though. She simply made a note to spend as little time as home possible, to try and keep her mother from being caught in whatever crossfire would take place,

Sigh began counting down the days in anticipation. Not fear exactly…it was nearer to frustration. She just wanted whatever was going to happen to happen so she could get on with her life. Maybe she should just step down? Maybe she should just let them bully them out of her position? It would be so much easier than playing this messed up waiting game. What the Hell were they doing, anyway? Painting their nails? Any longer and she would be tempted to go to them, the-

Sigh was slammed to the ground roughly, following the rules of inertia as her own, speed-walking force, collided with and was combined with that of another person. It scattered the books the Head Librarian had her leaving in select NOT! classrooms for exam practices and twisted one of her wrists uncomfortably as she instinctually tried to catch herself. The fact that she was on edge did nothing to sooth her as a rather nasty hex was on the tip of her tongue by the time she opened her eyes and recognized what -whom- she had run into.

Kid seemed just as startled to be running into her so suddenly, although practice allowed him to school his face into polite passivity almost instantly. Sigh fought down the blood that threatened to pool in her face as she quickly scrambled to her knees, gathering up her books. She knew she wasn't fast enough to have them in her arms before he recovered completely and she wondered if she should just consider them a lost and run for it. She cursed her own cowardice but…this was the first time they had been alone, within a close proximity since their…ahem_…break_…and she wasn't entirely sure how this would go down. They had been so professional and calm but then the words of Madame (why the HELL had she called the old harpy?) were suddenly so prominent in Sigh's head she could hardly hear past them, the words mashed into a simple phrase that she didn't want to hear…

_You fucked up._

Sigh didn't have the time or the energy for this distraction. She had to be prepared for a fight at any time. She felt like one of those flat characters from a dollar-chasing teenage novel. Those empty girls who considered finding love to be the most important thing in their lives and surrendered friends and family and _duty _all on the behalf of romance. Those who sported so much strength and will but when it boiled down to the core of what they were it was all tissue and rotten sugar that had no purpose aside from seeking a man's penis to swoop them off their feet away from their individuality. Responsibility. It was so _stupid _to Sigh and she refused to be one of them. She cursed herself for her weakness and she hated Kid for his ability to bring it out in her and all that unjustified anger congealed into determination that resisted him even as the bastard held out a book that she had nearly left behind.

'Thank you,' she mumbled.

'You're welcome,' he hummed.

And they could have left it at that. That would have been the smart thing to do, right? So Kid, he moved to walk away, to continue down the hall like they had not just slammed into one another. She hated him for being smarter than her.

'Wait.' She wasn't sure what she wanted upon grasping his elbow, so when he turned his intense eyes upon her -bronze and yolk in anxiety- with wariness in their depths she choked on her own tongue. 'Kid,' she finally managed to grunt after a moment. 'We should-'

'No.' He pulled from her, and her hand dropped back to her side. His eyes were hard and she felt something in her die. Maybe she wore a bit more on her face than she intended because his face softened almost imperceptivity. '…you were right,' he said so low she almost missed it. 'Maybe we're not…doing this the way we should. And…maybe we do need space to think about it without…' his aura was on her -caressing her face, her shoulders, her arms- for the first time in days and she was surprised at how much she had missed it. 'I don't want you to think that I'm not still here for you,' his gaze averted from her face. 'Whatever waits for you in the next few days, I'll be there. _Nothing _can stop me.' His eyes shot back to her, hooded and sharp, his brow wrinkled. 'You will not be alone in this…I will never allow you to suffer alone. I don't care if you never choose me, if you never feel like it's right. I fear that it's much too late, for me, to see anyone or anything else but you.'

Sigh was trapped, she knew. Trapped by his face and his voice and his aura. She didn't struggle, not even as his hand came to hover over her jaw, like he was unsure if he was allowed to touch her.

'Space…it what you need?'

Sigh's eyes widened. Something vulnerable and pained seemed to appear in his gaze as he withdrew his hand. 'Space it what you shall have' As she watched Kid's retreating back Sigh considered taking a long lunch that day, and drinking a great deal while on it. She slogged her way back to the library to dream of tall drinks and blissful nothingness, unaware of a meeting taking place in the Death Room.

Oshun was not one to avoid the topic, and she was greatly irritated with Lord Death when he insisting on sitting her down and presenting, out of consideration for her people, Palm Wine. While the ceremony was to be respected she had come with a purpose and would not be dissuaded.

'Hades,' she began impatiently as he poured her a glass. She narrowed her eyes as he lifted a hand to silence her. 'Please, Lady Oshun, call me Lord Death.' Oshun snorted. 'You know of me? Then you know where I am from you are not Death.'

'Ah, yes. How fairs Ogbunabali? It's been a while.'

'He is well. Truth be told, he still boasts his victory over you in your last skirmish.' Lord Death pouted. 'That's was nine centuries ago and I am much more experienced now.'

'He said you would say something like that…'

'If he is so confident he would just come here and face me…' Oshun chuckled and sipped at her wine. 'Hades, I did not come here with you to make your acquaintance, although we can both agree it is long overdue. I come here now because the blatant insult granted me by your people.' Death cocked his head to the side. 'Insult? With all due respect, how can we insult you if we have never come to know you?'

'Do you know the care with which a prediction is constructed?' Oshun answered the question with a question. 'How gentle we are in weaving the future, the dedication it takes to construct even a single destiny? The larger the fate the longer the effort, the more our fingers blister and our eyes bleed. Sometimes I wonder how other immortals can so easy forget the skill in what my kind do.'

'Ah, I am associates with three sisters not unlike yourself-'

'_Hacks at best,' _Oshun hissed. 'I was making predictions while they were still learning to sew. I assume that is why they were not able to tell you the repercussions of allowing Rehema to live this long.' Death frowned deeply behind his mask, feeling Spirit tense behind him. 'Pardon?'

'Do not play coy with me, Hades. I have come a long way and my patience is wearing thin with your western antics. Honestly, one would think those self-important Greae sisters of yours would have shared with you just how deep into disaster the world can spin when one is denied their destiny.' Lord Death really didn't want to think of a meeting he had with Grace years ago. One in which the woman had screamed Psyche's fate…

_Kill it, Death!_

'-make predictions for my own entertainment, is that what you _toubab _think?' Oshun continued speaking. 'For my own pleasure? I take no joy in being the harbinger of disaster, warning people that their babies shall burn, their dreams shall rot. And this child in particular, such a nasty fate. Nasty but necessary. And now…how the world may suffer…' Death narrowed his eyes. 'Oshun, the young woman you are referring to has no interested in harming anyone.'

'Why could you not just do your duty and take her?' Only years of dealing with the sisters Greae allowed Death the keep hold of his irritation. 'Because it was not her time. Perhaps if you were more focused on your job instead of mine your prediction would have been more accurate?' Oshun scowled, almost ruining the beauty of her face. 'Don't pretend like this was not a gross lack of oversight on your part or on the part of your _spawn._ You allowed his emotions to blur your duties-'

'If the woman was meant to die, she would have died, regardless of our inaction,' Death said shortly. 'The fact she was able to be saved even _after _killing Djinn shows gross miscalculation pertaining to her destiny.' Oshun grit her teeth. 'You will not act, then?'

'I couldn't imagine what you expect me to do.'

'You force my hand. Remember, Death, what happens next falls upon your head. The head of your kinsmen. I only act for the benefit of life as we know it.' Death stood with Oshun as she once again took her can in hand. 'What do you plan to do, Ms. Oshun?' His friendly tone still managed to be heavy, dangerous. Oshun was hardly intimidated as she smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. 'I've already done it. The error with be corrected. I'd beg your pardon on this matter, but I think it's clear that you will hold a grudge.' Death's aura grew deadly as he moved to loom over the woman. 'No, no, Oshun, you will keep your nonsense out of my city, or face the repercussions.'

'Dear Hades,' Oshun drawled. 'It is no longer _my _nonsense. Do you blame the man who eats the fruit, for the tree born from its seeds?' Death's retort was rather clever, he thought, and he was severely disappointed not to have been able to voice it as he felt the sudden appearance of three witches just outside of his school. It was troublesome enough to feel them all relinquish their Soul Protects in the same moment, but then a rather loud ringing reverberated through the property. It was high-pitched and vaguely annoying, but too suspicious to escape investigation. The Death Room protected Lord Death and Spirit from its effects but the two men did not hesitate to exit and examine the perceived damage to the school. Oshun took her leave.

Sigh's ears were ringing and she honestly couldn't hear the command as it fell from her lips. It was only habit and practice that had the word taking form and her magic moving obediently. Because she knew a stun spell when she felt it.

'_Kulinda!_'

She prayed the others in the school would be well, but told herself that DWMA didn't school ammeters. And the spell was not meant to kill, it was meant to surprise. She grit her teeth and dug her nails into the glowing holly bushes that encased her, taming her wild thoughts determinedly. Because she still had days until the solstice, and she hadn't really put her heart into practicing, and all she wanted to do was _go home damn it _but she just couldn't do that, could she?

She was on her feet and running as soon as the spell came to a close, only stopping once to convince herself that bodies of the students and the teachers on the ground in the hallways were stunned and not dead. But she had to be the first one out the door, the first to confront their attacker.

_Attackers._

Sigh glared at the three witches standing on the steps of the DWMA. It was bold of them to host an attack on the territory of an institution once dedicated to their destruction, but if any of the women noticed it was unreadable on their faces.

The first had dark brown hair piled high on her head, clothing made from a dark, clinging fabric that seemed to fold and melt about her person. Her eyes were shut, her mouth sealed in a stiff, pale line.

The second had a bold, toothy smirk on her face, bright orange eyes narrowed and wincing. She had two dark blue pigtails low on her head and was wearing a distorted, revealing, version of the Shibusen uniform. Her skin was the off-peach orange of a bad fake tan.

The last woman stood to the side in a very large fur coat that hide her from Sigh's discernment. An ushanka was pulled low over her face and was the exact same color as her coat.

'Can I help you?' The Library assistant asked agitatedly, already gathering aura in her fingertips. The woman in fur was the one who responded. 'Depends. Are you the one known as "Rehema"?' The witch's accent was thick…Russsian…no, Bulgarian_._ Sigh rolled her neck, keeping her eyes on her opponents. 'Depends who wants to know, I guess.' The witch hummed a laugh. 'All things being equal, Lady Rehema, my name is Sasha. This is Leah, and Piper. Let there be no secrets between us; we are here to kill you.' Sigh nodded. The three witches had auras that were large but nearly translucent. Seafoam, rosette, cornflower. They were untainted, implying her opponents were not monsters or corrupt.

'Tell me,' she felt free to ask. 'How many people have you killed?' Leah twirled the end of a pigtail. 'None. Well, we've beaten the shit out of several, but killing leaves a bad taste in our mouths.'

'When we came together as a team, we vowed to protect the Coven no matter what it takes,' Piper muttered. 'Thus far, we have never been asked to take a life. But we feel as though with something like you…we cannot hold back.' Sigh smiled tightly. 'I just want you to know, I'm not overly fond of killing either.'

'Yes,' Piper hummed. 'We know.'

The air was heavy.

'_Usafirish-_'

'MUTE-SCREAM-MUTE!' Sigh choked on the transporter spell, hand flying to her throat in alarm as Piper spoke over her. She hardly had time to recover from her shock before Leah was upon her, skirt flying as the woman brought down a high kick. 'Heavyheavyheave!' Sigh ducked to the side, eyes widening in surprise as the witch's foot created a crater in the stone.

'Please do not struggle,' she heard Sasha beg from the sidelines. Sigh dodged Leah's fist, rolled to avoid a wave of sound from Piper. 'Think of the students. The longer this carries, the more likely for there to be innocent casualties.' Sigh grimaced. So they'd trapped her here on purpose.

'Heavy!'

'Scream!'

Sigh's foot glued itself to the ground and she bent her leg uncomfortably as sonic waves clipped her shoulder. Her action pulled her foot from her shoe, leaving the affected sandal in its crater. 'Heavy!' Sigh tore her sweater from her body as it began to weigh on her, barely dodging a heavy fist from Leah. The woman made a face. 'Hold still!' Sigh glared defiantly, still unable to speak. She was thrown into the side of the DWMA by a blow from Piper, her head bashing painfully against the brick. She hadn't gained her bearings before Leah was upon her once more, winding her with blows to the gut, the chest, the face. She caught the other woman's fist before it could hit her again, snarling and twisting until she heard something in the witch' shoulder pop. Leah shrieked in pain and leapt back, allowing Sigh to sway away from the wall.

She blew blood out of her nose and gently laid a hand upon bruised ribs. 'You can't use spells,' Sasha pointed out. 'And you are far from immortal. If you would surrender, we would end it quickly; mercifully. There is no need for this.' Sigh gave her the finger. Leah leapt at her again but Sigh was expecting it, and grasped the woman's foot before she could finish the word 'Heavy'.

Baring her teeth, Sigh slammed the woman, back and forth, over and over into the cobble stones until her screams stopped. Only then did Sigh loosen her grip and let Leah fly to the ground, where she lay unmoving. '_**LEAH!'**_Piper accompanied her scream with a sonic attack so fearsome Sigh felt it vibrate through her body even as she dodged. She thought she had avoided the blow when she was struck from behind, blasted forward and skidding on the ground. She rolled as she heard another attack blast by her and tripped over herself avoiding the echo. The next came almost immediately and caught her foot in the aftershock. A ripple was her only warning before another blow struck her at the front, its echo pinning her against the attack.

Piper's lips were wide, her jaw unhinged. Her eyes opened to reveal two more mouths for her most powerful spell. 'EVER-MUTE EVER-SCREAAMMMM!'

Sigh was in so much pain she saw white. Her brain felt like it was rattling in her skull, her bones seemed to grind painfully against each other as her blood boiled and ran from her eyes and ears and nose, vessels rupturing. She opened her mouth in a silent roar of agony as her hands covered her ears uselessly. It seemed to stretch into eternity.

She hardly felt the ground as she met it face first, gasping like a fish on dry land. 'Oh?' Sasha's voice was curious and disappointed. 'You're still alive?' Sigh forced herself up on shaking arms. 'That was more power than I've ever seen Piper exert before.' Piper nodded in agreement, sweat dripped from her forehead. Sigh knew she had to move. Had to get out of dodge before Piper regained her breath and Sasha finished saving up for…whatever she was saving up for.

Because no witch was _that_ still during a battle unless they were charging up a really shitty spell, one that would be nearly impossible to defeat based on the amount of mana built up into it.

But Sigh's body was heavy and painful, her blood rushing to her ears and her breathing grinding in her throat. She sat back on her heels and closed her eyes, air rushing through the teeth. She really hadn't wanted to go the desperate measures. But without speaking she had no spells to rely upon, no Wiccan magic that could come to her rescue. So she had to fall back on_…_

She curled her fingers, feeling the magic in her body distort and amplify. It struggled beneath her skin, fire in her veins. She coughed and spat red to the ground between her hands as she struggled back to her feet and lifted her hands.

_What is your __**desire?**_

Perhaps Piper could feel the shift in the air as she gasped, trying to hit Sigh again before she could act. Sigh felt bruised muscle strain against cracked bone as she shifted her hand. Without verbal command, vines the color of bloody ice wrapping about Piper's ankles and legs, crawling up her body. She directed her voice toward them, able to free herself of several before more replaced them. She struggled and howled as the foliage wove together into a solid ball encompassing her body from which no sound escaped.

Sigh took a breath, allowing herself to sulk a bit in her exhaustion.

And then there was one.

'I see…' Sasha's voice was sincerely sad. 'So…here we are?' Sigh made a face, offended the other woman sounded confused when she had begun the fight. There was silence. Sigh remained tense, unwilling to make the first move. 'You're probably wondering when I'm going to attack you?' Sasha's coat shifted, opening to expose a one-piece the off-white of parchment, numbers written in runny ink across her body. 'I'm afraid this game was over from the beginning.'"


	6. Chapter 6

**BB says: **Another round of chapter for my friends! WOO! *parties too hard. Needs a nap*

"Death the Kid had been on edge long before the witches made their presence known in front of the school. He had made it a few meters away from Sigh -still close enough to hear her hesitate in the hall- and turned the corner before placing his arm upon the wall and leaning heavily. A hand found itself to his face as he covered his eyes and took a shaky breath.

It wasn't as though the past few days had been torture…to the contrary, he impressed himself with his ability to bury the strange sickness spinning in his belly deep, _deep _into the recesses of his mind. He hardly thought of the ache in his chest, the chill on his skin, the muffling of the world about him. He perhaps could ignore it forever (a masochistic thought, he knew, because a part of him expected his extreme discomfort to become the norm and therefore dismissible).

Encountering Sigh in the hallway had been…unexpected and unwanted in his plans. The sharp numbness that had been overtaking his body was banished at the sight of her fluster, her disobedient hair and frantic movements. His heart screamed in his chest and the palms of his hands _burned _as she brushed curls from her face and looked at him with those damnable _eyes _of hers; deeper than the sky, brighter than the stars as they scalded him.

This woman could die in the next few days…

No. He would never allow that to happen.

_I love you._

Kid wrenched his eyes tighter closed, cursing his own weakness.

And that was how his weapons found him. Eyes shutting out the world, mouth turned as though pained as he leaned against the wall.

'Kid?' They fretted for his health, ignoring his insistence that he was well. It was not his body that suffered, after all. It was not something the Nurse could mend.

The sound-based attack rocked him deep but his previous battle with Mosquito left him well-acquainted with that type of attack. It didn't make it any less uncomfortable, nor any easier to fight how heavy his eyelids were becoming, but at least he was able to stay on his feet through it all. His knees were shaking and his eardrums pounded in his skull, but he was still on his feet. It was more than he could say for his weapons. A quick inspection told him the young women were still breathing, simply rendered nearly unconscious by the attack.

'Liz, Patty,' he whispered gently. Liz's eyes opened a crack. Patty grunted. 'Can you turn in to pistols?' He thought the two had lost consciousness when they both went still at the same time, and was on the verge of panic when they shifted into his hands. He felt their lethargy through their wavelength, their usual vibrancy merely a third of its heat. He holstered them. Honestly, he didn't think two sleeping weapons would be of much use to him, he just couldn't stand the thought of leaving them on the ground as he investigated.

As he ran through the school he found the student body and the teachers in similar states. The sound of stones breaking led him to the front, where he threw open the doors…

…and saw there was no one there.

His eyes narrowed, sensing trickery.

The smell of hot magic was faint in the air but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The property had been freshly swept, as it was every other morning, a dry breeze brushed by. There was no one on the steps approaching or in the air above. He closed his eyes, stretching beyond the common sense and into his reaper nature.

At first there was nothing but the cacophony of the souls in the school behind him and those in the city below. His feet moved forward, hand lifted forward. His eyes glowed with power when he next opened them. The barest traces of a familiar soul caught his attention. 'Sigh?' He ran forwards, standing in the middle of the cobbled grounds, eyes searching. His straining senses caught sparks of hexes, whiffs of blood, but he could not find where they were coming from. Or how to confront them.

'Oh, my. I certainly wasn't expecting anyone else to have been here to witness this. And such a handsome man, too.' Kid's head snapped around. The woman appeared to have walked out of the school behind him. He wondered why he hadn't felt her sooner. She smiled, her white teeth shimmering in her dark face. 'Very, _very _handsome! To be expected, I suppose. I've seen your father's face, after all.' She came to stand beside Kid. She was either ignorant of the fact that he was scrubbing her immortal soul or she didn't care. Considering the intensity of his look, one would believe the latter.

'Who are you?' Kid's eyes were narrowed. For although the statuesque woman had a young face and nimble walk, practically ignoring the cane in her hand, her soul was _ancient_. And her sightless eyes had pinned themselves to him. 'Why are you here?' The woman was as tall as him, if not a bit taller. She bent her mouth into a close-lipped curve before responding. 'Cutting right to the chase,' she breathed in her accent, one he recognized as a dialect of Igbo. 'I like that. And the fact that you can sense what's going on, while your father still wanders the school to sniff out the cause…yes, you're powerful. Junior.' Kid stiffened. It was a common name for him among immortals who knew him, but he swore he had never seen this woman in his life. 'My people have called me Oshun, for some time now,' the woman ignored his mounting wariness. 'So it is a fine enough name.' It only took Kid a moment to recognize the name, and when he did he stood a step back from her.

'You're-'

'Yes,' her eyes seemed to scour him as hard as he had been reading her. 'I'm the one who predicted the end of Djinn.' She cupped her cheek with a long-fingered hand. 'The race, not the monster. Not what Shahryar allowed himself to become. I know that's confusing.' The head of her cane tapped his chest. 'And you are _death. _By name and by personage,' wrinkles appeared at the edges of Oshun's eyes. 'Rehema's Death. So tell me, boy, why did you fail to act? Why have you condemned an entire timeline?' Kid took a careful step away from the woman.

Sigh wrinkled her brow in confusion. 'You're wondering what I mean, aren't you?' Sasha allowed her coat to fall shut once more. 'I can explain.' Sasha opened her palms and gestured about them. 'From the moment you exited the building, you were encompassed in a side dimension as insurance. Should Leah and Piper fail, I would be here to make sure you didn't go anywhere. Ever.' Sasha smiled a small smile, watching Sigh's face go from shock, to horror, to anger. Lilac hair bounced as Sigh spun on the heels of her feet.

Her surroundings seemed no different to the naked eye, explaining why it had been so easy for Sigh to miss. But Djinn eyes, the eyes of a trickster race, saw the flickers of a powerful fabrication, one that stretched and manipulated the space-time around them. It was like she had been captured within a giant soap-bubble, something with a flexible surface and improbable dimensions. The air itself seemed to taste different -oddly sweet and heady- and she wondered how in the world she hadn't noticed such a large spell before.

Even so, Sigh doubted the field went much further than the steps of the school. She tested her theory with a burst of stamina, aiming a powerful kick at the edge of the property. Risky; if Sasha was bluffing Sigh was in for a tumble down the stairs. But something grim told Sigh the witch was not one for useless boasts.

'Time passes differently, here,' Sasha grew bored watching Sigh's useless attempts to break the field. 'You see, you're not the only one with strange paternity. My mother survived a tryst with the fairy king, Oberon. I was born able to manipulate time and space near the level of Lady Mabaa. I can keep you here for _decades_, hidden away from even the discerning eyes of your reapers. All happening in acceleration, before the second hand on the clock outside has even registered a few minutes. Before anyone realizes what has happened to you.' Sigh pursed her lips grimly as Sasha continued speaking.

'I know what you're thinking. "All that I am, decades are hardly enough for me to die of old age." But what about dehydration? Starvation? Blood loss? And thanks to Piper, you're still without your normal magic.' Sigh grit her teeth and charged. Because if Sasha lost consciousness, logic dictated that her spell would dissipate. Sasha pulled to the side faster than reasonable, her leg coming up to clip Sigh on the side of the head. 'I'm able to tap into the enhanced time of this field, speeding myself up to match it.' A fist buried itself in Sigh's stomach. 'And your Djinn magic has left you exhausted, right? Drained?' Sigh barely blocked a shin to the ribs. 'That universe shifting _gluposti_. Just how careless can someone _be_? Do you not hear the strain on reality?' Sigh's head hit the ground with a 'crack', the world spinning. Sasha stilled.

'The others…they came with me at my word,' Sigh pushed herself up on her forearms, fighting to catch her breath. 'Friends do that, I guess. I really can't…I really couldn't have done that you know? You cannot simply tell me something you perceive to be truth and assume I shall accept it.' Sigh closed her eyes. A strange ache rattled through her body as she tried to force her magic forth, once more without a spoken spell. She knew it looked easy…but truthfully every time was _agony,_ fire in her veins that had been eager to devour her since her battle with Djinn.

Magic was already rampant in the world, and verbal spells worked as a contract with the wild power that permeated the receptive. Without that contract it was like trying to tackle a roiling storm made of rusted nails and broken glass; something massive and intense and painful to touch.

'All this…the attacks…when that woman first proposed it, I couldn't just go along with it. Please try to understand, I won't be doing this if this wasn't the only answer. The only answer to prevent what she saw. All that confusion…all that chaos and pain…it awaits the witches if you won't just _die._' Sigh allowed the torrent of her anger to drown out the doubt, the fear. Barbed ivy glowed up her body, keeping together ruptured veins and broken bones.

_**What do you desire?**_

_** NOT TO DIE HERE.**_

__'If you don't, you're going to kill us-' Sigh's fist caught Sasha off guard, the force carrying wind as it missed her. 'Oh? Have you caught your breath?' Sigh brought her leg up, aiming for Sasha's head. The witch dodged, but Sigh allowed the weight of her body to continue carrying her, tacking Sasha to the ground. A glimmer of fear appeared in Sasha's eyes before she slammed her skull into Sigh's nose. Sigh was forced back but caught herself on her feet again.

'How are you-' Sigh lifted her hand and flicked her wrist, glowing holly leaves freeing themselves from Piper's prison and launching themselves at Sasha. As the woman tried to leap away, they followed her, forcing her to take the attack with a block. Blood trickled from Sigh's nose.

'Your speed has increased?' Sasha snatched her foot from the mouth of a venus flytrap that sprang up from the ground, a violet color that seemed to shift in the direction of red. 'Tick-tock-tick!' The spell pulled the numbers from Sasha's body and spun them like blades at Sigh. The woman didn't seem to feel them as they dug into her body. The mist in her eyes spun into cyclones of light and smoke, her planted feet cracking the ground beneath her. Sasha's eyes widened as a baobub tree root sprang from a fracture in the air and slammed her to the ground. Her struggle proved futile a more roots appeared from the air and the ground, wrapping about her and binding her tightly enough to crack and bruise. But Sigh's magic didn't end there.

Like water spilt from an upturned vase, mana collided and took form within the field, a glowing field of grass appearing beneath their feet, berry bushes and rubber trees and lone filtering the light above their heads. 'TICK-' the roots tightened, ending Sasha's words in a scream. Sigh slowly began closing her hand into a fist the foliage obedient as it continued to pressure Sasha. Every time the witch attempted to utter a spell Sigh stiffened the spell. Sigh loosened the spell somewhat abruptly, keeping Sasha trapped but allowing her to breathe deep. Sigh was shaking, the world deafening, blood pounding as her teeth grit together. She was hitting the point where her own magic was beginning to eat at her. Her gesture was wild as she slammed Sasha into the invisible ceiling above their heads before pulling the woman close.

She knew she was a wreck -bloodied, bruised, eyes squinting in pain- but she locked gazes with Sasha, trying to get her message across.

_Take it down, before __**I **__do.___

'I'm certain I don't know what you mean,' Kid drawled. Having just met her, he was already not fond of the woman. Oshun pouted her lips. 'Don't you?'

'No.' The old woman sighed. 'Can't we be mature about this? Or do you insist on me telling you what _should have_ occurred six years ago?' Oshun closed her eyes. 'I still see it, you know, the series of events you so carelessly sent careening into the universe. One night, much like others, you couldn't sleep. You were kept awake by guilt and heartbreak, and you sought to end suffering. Yours and hers, alike. You were well on your way to your destiny, aiding her in hers, when something in you shifted. You fell off the path, and ended up doing the _opposite _of what your species was intended for. You _saved a life._' Kid's fingers tightened into fists. Of course. She was a seer, and a powerful one at that. It was like the powers of the Graea sisters rolled into one, someone…some_thing _that was not looking at a single future, but endless possibilities.

Perfect for predicting the future of reality altering creatures.

'Do you understand the implications of such a thing?' Oshun scolded. 'For Death to refuse to take a life? The Great Balancer of the universe takes a holiday? It's basically granting _immortality. _And to a being whose baser instincts scream for her to rip Order to shreds? I'm so disappointed in you…' Oshun opened her eyes.

'Don't make that face,' the seer huffed at Kid. 'So aggressive! I have no intention of fighting you, Boy. I just wanted to meet you.' Oshun chuckled. 'I've never met anyone with the ability to go against one of my predictions so violently…I must confess; I find failure to be exhilarating. Like a rare treat, understand? I act not from spite.' She pursed her lips. 'It's unfortunate that I've had to seek solutions. I dislike getting my hands dirty. I don't like to hold spears or knives or…' she shuddered '_guns._ And you wouldn't strike an opponent with no interest in fighting you, would you? Much less a woman?' Oshun smiled at Kid. 'Tell me, do you recognize what she is? Do you recognize the monster that you've allowed to continue to haunt the alleys of this world? Dear, sweet, heir-apparent of Death?' Kid crossed his arms, mouth hitching in an uncertain smirk.

'This world is full of monsters, Lady Oshun. I hardly think Sigh is the worst of which I can face and overcome.' If the use of Sigh's common name startled her Oshun didn't show it. 'You _think. _The high time of the Djinn was long before you. Before you were even a _concept _the Djinn haunted the ancient halls of the first Empires.' Oshun sighed. 'But evolution, great and terrible, it caught up to even them. Mankind, immortals, we all started to slowly master the power of the Djinn. We found ways to trap them, bend them to our will. Use their universe-altering strength to grant wishes, to do _good, _one would hope.

Magic is an institution of evolution, and Djinns are composed nearly entirely of magic. Their beings shifted until they couldn't exist without mediums, what we came to call their "hearts". Often it would take the form of a "lamp", but there were outliers. Necklaces. Articles of clothing. Plants. Rings. It both contained them and allowed them to exist in solid form in this world. And as long as someone gave them a name, a collar-'

'Are you going somewhere with this?' Kid was getting antsier by the second, the tense discomfort of the unknown sitting on his shoulders. He was in no mood for a ramble that was strangely reminiscent of one of his father's tangents. Oshun frowned at his interruption but just as he thought he had offended her into silence she spoke again. 'Rehema is a djinn, given the advantage because she was granted a name from her mother, not a _master. _She never had a "heart" in the traditional since; her "heart" and "soul" have always been one and the same. When one shatters the other does as well. As with what would occur, say, in a battle with another Djinn?'

Oshun ignored the darkness gathering in Kid's eyes. 'And what a neat little solution the universe had, no? The two remaining Djinn would destroy one another; never again would such chaos stand to challenge the Order needed to establish reality. I could see no further than that. My purpose what fulfilled, I could finally have _rest_.' For the first time, the mockery seemed dampened on Oshun's face. She seemed…despaired. 'But who could have predicted this? Death itself would will the mixed-blood to live?'

They were disrupted by the sound of shattering.

It wasn't quite like glass striking the floor or pottery thrust against stone. It was hard to describe really, aside from the fact that it was indeed the noise of something breaking apart suddenly. Violently. Something dark and heavy flew through the air and before he could stop himself, Kid caught it, allowing his body to transfer the force to the balls of his feet. It was surprisingly soft and limp and his nose caught the heady scent of blood.

She opened her eyes, startlingly blue, and locked onto his gaze. 'What,' the witch gasped, blood flecking on her lips 'is she?' She grasped at Kid's shirt, trying to remain aware. 'I…' she swallowed. 'I didn't know…I've killed us…I've killed…my friends…' As the woman's eyes shut, mercifully carrying her into unconsciousness, Kid dared to look at the shattered remains of what appeared to be a dome made of air.

It's sky-colored shards fell at his feet, shimmering down upon his head like diamond rain. It nicked and cut him but the pain was so minor he dismissed it in favor of the chaos magic leaking forth from the rims of the containment field. It smelled so disturbed he instinctively wanted to rip it to shreds…but the soul from which it was emanating called to his very being, dulling his fangs and dampening his wrath. 

He was honestly quite torn.

A pulse of bedlam rode forth, crashing like a wave as the magic dissipated. Two other witches lay, unmoving, on broken stone, bodies limp and magic weakened. Kid felt the blood of the witch in his arms begin to seep into his shirt. A cursory look told him that she was injured rather badly; chest rising and falling gently. Kid was careful as he lowered her to the ground, standing between her and the woman he still ached for.

The field's failure allowed for the quick spread of Sigh's characteristic forest motif, somehow both smothering and comforting….no. Death the Kid frowned deeply. The meadow that sprouted around them overlaid the stones, the shimmering grasses almost as tall as his knees. Instead of ending with the towering sequoia that misted into being about them the meadow encompassed the air. Instead of the midday sun above, her magic wrote the darkness of twilight to surround them. A strange mockery of a moonlit night with an atmosphere the yellow of corn flour and a moon made of tulips, twinkling eyes instead of stars in the sky. The air became dense and Kid bid himself to stop breathing, all too aware of the illusions that came with djinn magic.

And, looking at Sigh now, white veins burning on her four arms, her lips stiff and her eyes wilder than a summer storm, he knew that was what she was. It was seared in her blood and braided in her soul. Too deep for comprehension. Wiccan blood be damned, this woman was not a being made to unite and heal and tame. She was a goddess of chaos and violence. Fertility and mockery. Oshun could say what she wanted, but it wasn't Kid that had determined this woman was to live.

Kid grit his teeth as Sigh stopped her approach. She was barefoot, her clothing torn to shreds. Her hair glowed a miasmic shade of violet that made the hair on the back of Kid's neck stand on end. She moved slowly, toes dragging on the ground. Red tinted her body. She was badly hurt, but didn't seem to feel her wounds. Their eyes locked and the young reaper didn't look away even as Oshun spoke again.

'Do you see?' Her voice was almost a whisper. A triangle had formed between the three of them, as Sigh stood nearly an equal distance from Kid and the African oracle as the latter retreated a few feet. 'Do you see what I tried to spare the world from?' Kid did not respond. He would need to draw air to give voice to his opinion, and he knew better than to fall too deeply into such a dream. To allow it to permeate his body, fool his soul and mind. It was one thing for Sigh to draw these magics forth into reality; he doubted she understood the depth of her own power in a world of her creation.

_Strawberry fields forever._

She took another step forward, eyes still vacant and unblinking as she stared him down. Kid's movements were stiff as he lifted a hand, palm faced outward.

'Sigh-'

'_Kuweka._' The low hiss that escaped Sigh seemed to be the breath of the wind, weaving through the air, past Kid, past Oshun, and onto the unconscious witches on the ground. Instantly, large mawed buds burst from the ground and swallowed the three women whole. Kid's face contorted with horror while Oshun barked an incredulous laugh. 'AH! The ruthless wretch means to finish them off!'

No. Kid lunged forward.

He would not allow that.

He would never allow such a thing.

He acted not to save the three that perhaps had sought to end Sigh's life.

But, rather, to save the woman he'd one day selfishly helped pieced back together.

She allowed him to grasp her by the arms, roughly, her gaze still frozen on the spot where he had once stood. 'It's over,' he growled into her unresponsive face. 'You've won, Psyche, it's over.' Slowly, her eyes pulled themselves to his face. 'Over?' she muttered as though the word was foreign to her. 'No…it is not.' Kid grasped her arms harder, hard enough for pain, hard enough to try and drag her away from this. 'Psyche,' there was desperation riding beneath the authority in his tone. 'You cannot do this! You _will not _do this!'

'Do what?' her question was drawled and for a moment Kid wondered if she was as lost as he had feared he was. His eyes narrowed; he had to pick his next words carefully. He could feel the mist fall over his mind from the heavy air. But it wasn't…it wasn't the harsh, dangerous fog that he had felt in his battle with Djinn. It was warm…soothing. It made him think of gentle days and cool nights, hot coffee and whispered words. It wasn't…

'Why can't you trust me?' Kid froze, his fingers loosening. Sigh's face was suddenly contorted in pain, the injuries on her body harsh and terrible against her tender flesh. She was fragile in his hands, and he was horrified at himself with his reaction. 'Trust me,' Sigh had too much pride to beg, he knew. But he heard the pain in her voice. 'Please, trust me.' His fingers released her arm. He took a deep breath of this world -_her _world- allowing the contentment to flow through him and the feel of all that she was to flow through him.

'I…do,' his lips were tense. He shut his eyes, but he could still see her soul. 'I trust you, Sigh. I'll always…trust you.' She blinked, watching him. He didn't know how long they stood there. Long enough for the world to begin to shift back into its rightful form, for the air to lighten.

Sigh's gaze had shifted away from him and he followed her attention to the grounded witches. The petals of their floral prisons parted and fell away like the transition of spring to summer. They still lay on the ground, but their eyes were beginning to flicker open. Their wounds had sealed themselves, and the women inspected themselves in awe and suspicion. Sigh stepped past Kid, limping, and he smothered the urge to support her. Her movements were meant to be a show of strength; he would not rob her of that by showing them just how wounded she really was.

Although the stream of blood running down the side of her face was perhaps enough to do that.

Sigh knelt in front of Sasha, extending her hand. 'You're my people. I don't want to fight you,' she said gently. Sasha stared at her, dumfounded. 'You don't think I'm worthy. You think I'm dangerous and uncontrollable. I get it. But…I'll work, you know? I'll work until you guys like me.' Sigh smiled as hard as she could. 'I won't let you down.' Sasha did not accept her hand. And, after a few awkward seconds, Sigh retracted it. Embarrassed, she nodded uncomfortably. When she tried to rise back to her feet, she stumbled, ending up on the ground beside Sasha. 'Sorry,' she mumbled shyly. 'I…don't think I can get back up.' Sasha continued staring at Sigh until she was yanked away from the purple haired woman by Piper and Leah. They were breathing hard with matching looks of horror and fury on their faces. Sasha was drug away from Sigh soundlessly, and Sigh let them go.

She swayed a bit. She wasn't really surprised when Kid appeared at her side, keeping her from falling the rest of the way to the ground. He scooped her into his arms and she looped her arm around his neck. 'You shouldn't…you shouldn't…' she sighed at her own weakness as the fatigue began to catch up with her. She had channeled a lot of magic; even without the battle, healing magic was no easy task. 'I took care of it…without you…anyway.' That stung, Kid was too proud to say aloud, but he tightened his grasp about her. He coasted a surge of fear as her eyes grew hooded. She wasn't dying but seeing her injured in any way distressed him terribly.

Kid didn't want her to fall unconscious like this. Not when he felt he had crested an important point in his life, a life he still wanted to share with her. Because before he hadn't consciously been aware of what it could mean to allow himself to love another person. To open up, to welcome them in. For them to return his intentions and share his life. He had been…afraid. Afraid of what it could mean to let himself become vulnerable in such a way. Afraid of what could happen if someone beneath his armor were to try to hurt him, turn against him. But Sigh wasn't like that, was she? No. No. Not his Psyche. She began to go limp in his arms, allowing rest to take her, but the smile on his face was nothing short of giddy.

_I shall capture chaos into fourteen lines._

'I love you,' he whispered to her hooded eyes, her slackening face. 'I love you so much I think it'll kill me. I love you beyond logic, beyond reason, beyond anything that I am or could ever be. I love you for what you are and what you stand for. I love you, and I do not believe I can ever stop.'

A low chuckle drew his attention upward.

'So that's it then?' Oshun hummed, her cane tapping the ground. 'A happy ending? Or perhaps…not so much?' She pursed her lips. 'Should I leave her in the care of Death? Boy, do you believe yourself capable of taming such power?' Kid grimaced, Sigh cradled in his arms. His felt his father's soul bend and flex, the older reaper quickly approaching the front as the souls in the building sparked to wakefulness. Whatever spell had been place over the school was lifted as the witches fled. 'Sigh is a person, not an animal.'

'She is a cosmic force that needs to be balanced.'

'Then I shall be what pulls her back. I am the Lord of Order_, _I am _balance incarnate. _I shall capture chaos to be by my side.' Kid's presence still managed to tower with Sigh in his arms, his sunfire eyes burning. 'Your actions are an act of aggression, easily read as a declaration of war.' Oshun scoffed. 'And what army do I bring to your door? Even you, in your youthful arrogance, cannot validate attacking an old woman under allegations.' A shadow was cast over Kid's face. 'You dare claim innocence, when-'

'That is enough, Kid.' Lord Death hummed. Within seconds he was upon them. 'I believe Oshun's posturing does not deny the fact that her plan has fallen through.' Oshun smiled. 'Ah, Death. Have you come for more of my delightful presence?' Death shrugged. 'More to be sure you caused no more trouble for me or my students. Please do not prod my son's temper.' Oshun's smile grew wider. 'Ah, but the young are so much fun to tease. He must know you cannot retract a planted seed; this is hardly the head of conflict to come.' Kid frowned, speaking before his father could respond. 'Whatever comes, we shall overcome. I find it frustrating that you're underestimating us like this.' Oshun turned from the two reapers. 'Ah, as you'll have it then. Either way, I take my leave.'

Kid didn't bother watching her walk away as he turned to re-enter the school. 'I don't have time for her,' he responded to the look his father cast upon his back. 'Sigh is hurt.' Death hummed. 'Ah, of course. And what color scheme would you two like for the wedding?' And because Kid had made it VERY CLEAR to his father that he and Sigh were taking a break, the young reaper ignored his elder as he made his way to the nurse's office.

Sigh allowed her eyes to remain closed for a bit of time even after regaining consciousness. The smell of the nurse's office, something antiseptic and chilly, the feel of pressed sheets. The cotton dryness of her tongue and eyes. The subtle drip of an IV in her arm.

There was a shift at her eyes. The darkness behind her lids seemed to undulate with the black of a familiar aura. Sandlewood cologne. A hand a few sparse centimeters from her fingers. She opened her eyes.

She had little doubt that Kid had known the exact moment she had woken up; the reaper's look was too intense for otherwise. They stared at one another. Sigh's fingers twitched.

'How do you feel?' The low rumble of Kid's question broke the silence of the room. Sigh shrugged her stiff shoulders. The blood had been cleaned from her face, and although her ears were still ringing and her bones were still creaking she no longer felt like she was dying. Yay, painkiller. 'Not bad,' she chuckled humorlessly. 'Perhaps I was a bit off on my solstice theory?' Kid blinked. 'Not necessarily…something else could always come forward in the next few days…' his voice lacked conviction. Silence fell again.

'Kid-'

'Sigh-' They looked at each other.

'Go ahead-'

'No you-'

'I insist-' Sigh bit her lip. She folded her hands on her lap.

'Kid-'

'I'm sorry,' Kid spoke over her. 'I have to say that I think you're a moron, I'm an idiot, and together we're a disgusting mess.' Sigh's eyes went wide at his words, her mouth agape. What sorta nonsense-

'That being said,' Kid's hand lifted itself, clasping Sigh's fingers. 'Can we not end this?' Sigh scowled.

'I don't know what you're talking about.' Kid scoffed. 'Right. This is _exactly the right time _to be difficult.' Sigh glared at him. 'Don't discount my feelings as petulance.'

'Then stop being so damn _difficult!_'

'I'm not being difficult! My feelings are valid! My fears are valid! I really like you but you're not taking it seriously, you don't even trust me, how can we carry on if you don't even _trust me?! _We should be closer! We should talk more! We should know more about each other!' Kid's narrowed eyes were dark, his nostrils flaring. He had yet to release her hand. 'Sigh-'

'No,' she shook her head. 'It's fine. Forget I lost it like that…I don't want to fight, I-' Kid's sudden movement made Sigh seize. 'W-what are you doing-'

'Getting in bed.'

'No! It's not big enough!' He ignored her irritated plea, pulling his body onto the bed and behind her as she sat up to shove at him. In the end she was still too fatigued to fight him all that seriously. He easily overpowered her, settling onto the bed and encouraging her head to rest on his chest.

'I had no idea,' Kid muttered. 'That you were so torn.' He sighed forlornly. 'And all this time I was trying to be supportive. I told myself I didn't understand, and eventually you would come back to me. I thought you were the one confused…but maybe you were onto something? How can we work together if we don't meet in the middle?' Sigh relaxed against Kid's chest. 'It's…I didn't want to make you feel bad.' She sighed. 'That wasn't the point. I guess-'

'Emily,' Kid spoke low but Sigh felt it reverberate through his chest, his breath on the top of her head. 'What?' he sighed. Not in irritation, but in compliance. 'My mother's name. It was…Emily.' Sigh nodded awkwardly, shutting her eyes. 'O-oh…I've always liked that name. _Emily_.' She heard Kid hum. His hand wandered from the bed to her back, and she pulled herself even closer to him. This meant brushing against the bandages on her chest and arms, and, afraid of hurting her further, Kid tried to flinch away. But her hands did not permit his retreat. He cleared his throat.

'I've never had a favorite color. It seems…silly.' He shrugged. Sigh rolled her eyes. 'Of course. But I want you to know how good you look in red, and blue washes you out.' Kid pouted. 'Don't be spiteful because I think something important to you is silly.'

'I'm not…I'm just saying…' they fell back into silence.

'And you know, I don't…I don't really have a favorite food.'

'No?' She felt him shake his head stiffly. 'It's just that…the entire purpose of food is sustenance, correct? At least, that was its _original_ purpose. And as a grim reaper, a being whose _original_ purpose was meant to be outside the laws of mortality and the necessities of life, sleep and food have never been of much import, to my base existence.' He sighed. 'I don't usually eat.'

'But,' Sigh cinched her brow, trying to crush the unreasonable betrayal she suddenly felt. 'I've cooked for you! I've seen you and your father eat before…'

'It's a habit I picked up after Liz and Patty joined me. I like to think it allowed a sense of normalcy in their tumultuous lives. As for my father,' Kid made a motion that perhaps would have been a shrug if he had been sitting up. 'He's odd, even for us.' Sigh was silent. She was shocked to find that his revelation did not surprise her. She supposed it stood to logic; the purpose of grim reapers was balanced, efficient, and logical. Things such as a regular supply of food and a safe place to rest could jeopardize their duties in the long run, pick off reapers back and forth in their already dangerous occupations. The rules of evolution would dictate that those who needed less to function would be superior and more fit to continue their bloodlines.

What disturbed Sigh was the knowledge that this was the first time she had heard of this side of his life. The length of time they had known each other suddenly seemed trivial when one considered the weight of this knowledge and how long it had taken her to obtain it. Damn it, was it going to be a detail every five years? That was no way for a relationship to function, that was no way-

_Take your time. You have all the time in the world._

'You must think,' with a mental curse, Sigh realized she had been silent too long when she detected uncertainty in Kid's voice. 'That I am some sort of monster?' She heard his dry lips slide over his dry teeth. 'Something that functions on the crushed dreams and destroyed futures of others-'

'Why?' she challenged, irked at his stupidity. 'Is that what you think of yourself?'

'I think everyone is free to form their own opinion. I just take yours into greater consideration, of course.' Sigh snorted. 'You shouldn't put words in other people's mouths. It's rude. Besides, if there are any monsters in this room, there are two.' Kid sighed but didn't argue further. She felt his body grow restless, tensing beneath her and a hand bunching in her hospital gown.

Following the trend of the answers he had given her, she spoke before he could. 'There's a lot of power in a name,' Sigh muttered. 'Isn't there, Kid?' She felt him nod in his self-defacing mood. 'I mean, that's the most basic lesson in learning magic, not to grant anyone one's name until they have proven themselves to be absolutely trustworthy. Betrayal of one's name can be so damaging…it can _destroy absolutely_. So I understand…I mean we actually haven't known one another all that long and I'm a witch, in some form, so it's okay-'

'No,' Kid interrupted in a husky tone. Need for sleep or not, her warmth had almost lulled him to unconsciousness. 'That makes it sound like I don't trust you-'

'Do you?'

'Yes.' He said it quickly and with such finality Sigh determined he told the truth. 'It's just…I haven't said my own name is so long…if I've ever said it. I've only heard it from my father. Once. From there I've always just been "Death"…and eventually "Death the Kid."'

'Death is what you are, not who,' Sigh sniffed. 'It'd be like if I was just "Wiccan"….or "Djinn"'

'You could be…wasn't your mother-'

'Regardless. You're not ready to tell me, and I promise to be okay with that. What I said before…that wasn't fair of me. I wasn't really giving us a chance.' She pulled herself up from his body, hissing a breath as she bothered a few tender spots on her body. He opened his mouth to apologize but she shook her head. She had been resting against him so long she smelled him on her flesh. 'I'm alright, Kid.' His lips twitched. Sigh didn't push him away when his hand drifted to her cheek, his thumb brushing the ghost smile at the corner of her mouth. It moved to cup her neck as she spoke again.

'You're not the only one wary of…trust. I really…like you, you know? But there's been a lot of pain in my life. And I like you so much that…if you were to be the source of pain I don't think I could really defend myself against you. I know that you wouldn't hurt me physically, Kid. But there are so many ways to hurt. Many more when you live in someone's heart…' She shrugged. 'I guess I'm a bit of a weeny.'

'I would _never _hurt you, in _any conceivable way_,' he whispered into her hair as he pulled her closer. 'You need space? You'll have it. You need freedom? The door is ever open to you. You have doubts? I shall soothe them. Your smile is my sustenance, your laughter my drug. I _crave _your happiness, even if it means you pull away from me.' His grip loosened but Sigh remained close. 'And I know,' the warmth was leaving Kid's voice, introducing a taste of bleakness. 'That I shouldn't take you from this world. I shouldn't dominate the life you could have. I can't promise you peace, I can't give you normalcy. I can't give you a white picket fence, or,' his voice broke minutely 'little children with blue-grey eyes and black hair. I know that I'm just a shallow excuse for a reaper, a sad attempt at a lover, and a man with a heart of bars and secrets. But perhaps-'

'SHUT. UP.' Kid jumped at her bark, flinching as her hands grasped his face. She had tried to let him finish, she really had. But she had never, and would never, stomach his emo bullshit.

'I-'

'NO.' Sigh glared holes into Kid, sinking her nails into his scalp. 'You're not…you're amazing, you know! I'll never had normalcy anyway, you know! I ain't normal, even by my DAMN SELF, so I might as well be weird with you!' Kid blinked, his eyes still blown wide from shock. 'We're…weird?'

'Absolute _freaks_,' Sigh nodded sagely, convincing herself in the process of convincing him. 'I like you and you like me and we're totally idiots…_I'm _an idiot for letting my doubts get in the way of that. _You're _an idiot for dealing with my bullshit in silence. We have to try to be better…grow up, I guess.' His eyes searched her face, his lips slightly parted. She wanted to kiss him very badly; but it didn't feel like the right thing to do. She watched his mouth quirk in amusement and felt her lips move to do the same. 'Psyche LaBelle Éclair,' he said pompously. 'I propose that me grow up, together.' Sigh killed a laugh with a hum, nodding as strange tears gathered in her eyes. 'Hmmm…I don't know…what do I get from this deal?'

'…money?'

'Fickle.'

'Power?'

'Greedy.' Sigh's arms rested on either side of his body, keeping the weight of her torso off her injuries as she melted towards him. The sweet air of their facetious words drifted lazily between them as his fingers brushed her hips. 'Adoration?' he breathed into her face. She snorted, burying her face in his neck. 'Hmph.' Kid adjusted beneath her, arms tightening.

'…_marry me._' Sigh jumped. '_**What?**_'

'Let's grow up together.'

'No, what did you say-' The door burst inward like it had been violently struck. The hinges screamed, Madame blowing into the room on a gust of wrath.

'**WHERE THE HELL IS MY DAUGHTER?!**'"

Lord Death chuckled warmly as he walked behind his wife. "Ah, is that how it came about?" Psyche nodded sagely, checking her image in the hall mirror before turning to walk backwards and face her husband. He still insisted on carrying the bags although his meeting was set to start…five minutes ago. "That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Death hummed.

"You didn't even mention the actual proposal. I proposed in the middle of the library, tripping over my words and my knee hitting the ground painfully. I nearly fell into you." He smiled gently and Psyche stopped walking, blood rushing to her face. "You had a look of terror and disbelief on your face, tears in your eyes. One would have thought I was _threatening_ you-"

"I-it had only been a year since our 'break' from one another-"

"I thought you were going to hit me or worse, _deny _me. But you grabbed my collar, threw me to the ground, and kissed me so hard I thought you meant to smother me. I'm glad that Father had not yet installed security cameras in the library-"

"Your fear of me is such a turn on…"

"And what about our actual wedding? No mention of that, either."

Psyche shrugged. "What would you like to hear? How your father took absolute control in a manner not unlike what he did to Maka and Soul? But we were not clever enough to plot our escape?"

"Gardenias, lilies, and cleome in chains from the ceiling, braided at the alter and about every chair. Bridal march gently strummed on a guitar by one of your close friends…her name was Iris, correct?"

"I was literally only halfway done getting my nails done-"

"-ah, to match that lovely dress with the corset top and hooded veil. It was kind to you from your toes to your eyes -"

"-when _someone _whispered for me to 'hurry up' (to this day I swear it was Kim) and Madame caught wind of it. And she stood to challenge whoever stood against this wedding. And, as it turned out, several of the witches that Bibi had insisted I invite to the 'bridal preparations' were planning on objecting at the key parts in the wedding. And when they dared sneer at Madame a shouting match ensued. Then Madame launched herself at them (cane be damned). They weren't expecting that-"

"Nor you attacking them-"

"_No one _throws a spell at my mother." Lord Death chuckled. "Ah, well. By the end it had degraded into a near riot that all but rushed me as I waited for you at the altar. There was a bruise on your chin. And your dress ripped a bit. Pretty sure your bouquet was being ground to paste in your hand. But you still made it to the altar. The most beautiful woman in the world with fire in your eyes as you chewed her lipstick off your mouth. You looked me square in the eye, and said-"

"'I'll stand by your side,'" Psyche spoke gently as she reached out to touch the smile on Death's face. "'As your equal, or not at all. Accept this, accept me, or let me go.' I promise my vows were actually way more romantic than that. I was just too agitated to remember them." Death pulled his wife's hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. "No matter," he muttered. "Your words were perfect." Psyche felt her lips flex into a sweet smile. Her hand rested on his chest as she stepped closer. "Of course you think so." A knock at the door reverberated through the manor, startling the couple. Psyche pouted as she disengaged from her husband. "I'll get it. You hurry along to your meeting. If you're any later I'm pretty sure Eris will have a conniption." Lord Death rolled his eyes but pressed his lips to Psyche's temple.

"It's bound to degrade into another _conference_ anyway. The day Father Time can get through his list of ills in one sitting is the day of ragnarok itself." Psyche chuckled as she remembered the last "meeting" the master of time had hosted. "Should you pack a change of clothes? Last time it took _days._" Death pouted. "No. It's his own damn fault if I'm forced to go nude under my robes."

"Petty."

"Realistic." The knock sounded again. "You should go."

"Very well. And perhaps," he smirked as he grasped her hand, lifting it to his lips. "When we get back we may remember our first nuptial night together…?" His tongue laved between her fingers. Sigh blushed and shoved at Death playfully. "Get out of here, you lech." She still heard his laughter as he vanished into a mirror on the wall.

The main door to the manor vibrated with the raps of the visitor once more. Psyche cursed mildly. "Coming!" she yelled, although she was much too far to be heard by whoever darkened the doorway. A rolled of her wrist and a familiar spell had a hand on the door's handle in a matter of seconds, another hand gently smoothing her clothes while another adjusted her glasses.

Sasha smiled as soon as the door was open. "Hello Miss Sigh." Sigh smiled warmly. "Sasha! It's been too long!" the Bulgarian woman hummed as Sigh pulled her into a hug. "Are you well? _kolko golyam si_." Sigh flinched at the statement. Even in her maternity top she didn't think her stomach protruded _that _badly…did it?

"May I come in? A cup of tea and a moment with our esteemed leader?" The woman spoke lightly but Sigh didn't feel as though she had the option of turning her away. Grey eyes flickered; up, down, side, side. "Of course," she spoke with well-played warmth. "You're always welcome here. No matter how much time has passed."

Sasha had proved a valuable asset during the sorority war despite her dear friends switching sides in the middle. One of the other women, Leah, had lost her life in the final battle and for a long time Sigh had kept a close eye on Sasha, worried she would suddenly change her mind and try to reignite the feuds. Sasha had pleasantly surprised everyone with her grim acceptance of her friend's death, and her continued loyalty to Sigh's faction. It was doubtless that the woman's carefree days were gone without her friend – her eyes were hollow and hard, the corners of her lips permanently stiff- but there was still kindness and loyalty left in her bones. Over the years she had come to be a dear confidant to the young leader of the witches, and although Sigh didn't believe she could call the two of them friends she did feel as though she could trust the other woman.

They sat in the parlor, recently reset into its spring décor in prediction of the change in seasons. The black had been replaced with a deep grey with yellow and green detailing, an embroidered rug of silk and cotton carefully inlaid with the images of baby's breath and poppies. It had been a gift from the late Lord Death and Sigh's husband took care to have it maintained by a Brownie.

"No one can get past the security enchantments I've placed unless I want them to." A snap of Sigh's fingers had her second-finest China blossoming from the Cherrywood table like flowers, the kettle already filled with tea and sugar cubes at the ready. It was one of the spells that Sigh kept laying around her home in case of surprise visitors.

"You can speak freely." Sasha took care to pour her tea and stir in a bit of cream -no sugar- before speaking. "So," she said slowly, and Sigh stiffened at the woman's hesitation. "A rumor has been circling in the magical communities, and I had to confirm for myself." Her eyes hardened. "You're pregnant." Sigh nodded, her gaze never wavering and her lips never smiling. She had known this day would come. "I am."

"How far…?"

"Nearly twenty weeks."

"And I assume it is Lord Death's?"

"Our history keeps me from being offended at your assumption of my infidelity." Sasha sighed and shook her head. "It's not that, it's…" losing her words, she just shook her head again. Sigh crinkled her brow. "It's not what?" The other woman pursed her lips. "The child is to be very precious in the Witch community, as it is the child of our leader. But…it's sire is not really…_valued, _amongst us." Sigh felt irritation begin to boil in her body but practice kept her from acting on it. "Please just say what you mean. I hate circumlocution."

"There is concern for what sort of challenges our community will face with this sudden shift in politics. Children are rare enough amongst us, and the child of the Head Witch is almost guaranteed to be a Head Witch someday. It was hard enough convincing many that _you, _half-djinn, were worthy to lead. I can only imagine the rebellions that will face it, what it'll have to do to prove its-"

"They," Sigh spoke with deadly calm, unable to contain the comment. "I'm carrying a person, not a thing." The knuckles on Sasha's hand turned white as she grasped her cup. "_They_," she said with careful inflection. "Could result in another Sorority War. And I'm sure you understand I could not stand for such a thing. Most of us, could not." She set her cup down gently but it might as well had been a slam. "I support you. You've been a wonderful leader. You're strong, you're fair, you're kind. But this union…I've always questioned it. I know you love him, and he has been civil with us for centuries, but mixing blood like this, mixing _**magic **_is nothing short of dangerous. Do you know how long it's been since a child of a reaper and a witch was born? Long enough for it to be a creature of legend, one that descends into madness and threatens the very fabric of existence." Sigh scowled. Would the memory of Asura forever leave a mark on this world?

"The child would not just be _our _heir but _theirs _as well." Her eyes flickered to Sigh's belly with an accusatory glance. "Ripped in twain but never belonging to either world."

"No," Sigh once again forced herself to speak calmly. "They shall belong to **both **and yet stand in a class of their own. They shall represent the civility and the peace that has grown between our people, for centuries now. We are no longer enemies and we should not treat our amnesty like a curse."

"There are too many older witches who still remember conflict," Sasha argued. "Too many of us with the blood of our sisters on our hands from the last war we had to fight for you, blood on our hands from the reapers who would see us wiped out. It's difficult to move on."

"Progress is _always _difficult for the narrow-minded," Sigh felt her patience lean on its last leg. "But that doesn't make it any less necessary. Frankly, I don't give a damn if my child becomes the next Head Witch or not; it's up to them and the electoral system that, if you recall, _I _created. I have no interest in prolonging this outdated dynasty system that put me in charge and led to so much despair. I would never wish that chaos upon anyone, and I would never allow blood of mine to be the cause of it again." Sasha nodded. "I know…but…a child of the Head Reaper and the Head Witch…Milady, our fear is legitimized." Sigh frowned. "Only if the wrong people get their hands on my baby. And I shall never allow that to happen." Sasha's eyes flickered to Sigh's belly once more before scouring her face.

"I wish it could be that simple."

"It _is. _I just _know it._" Sasha closed her eyes, clasping her fingers together in front of her face. The way Sigh was feeling, she almost hexed the woman for her silence. Sasha startled her with a low laugh. "I've always loved this about you," she hummed, tight smile on her face. "When you want to do something, when your instinct it screaming at you, Hell to those who dare to challenge you. In a way…it reminds me of your grandmother." Sigh scoffed. "You say that like it's a bad thing." Sasha shook her head.

"To the contrary…when it's a leader whose gut actually knows what it's talking about, it's well worth it." Sigh gave a slight smile, taking a sip of her nearly forgotten tea. "You should give me more credit, you know," she clicked her tongue. "I've been a mother before." Sasha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Perhaps before you and I were on civil terms?" Sigh nodded. "Well, it started hundreds of years ago, with the man in the moon…"


	7. Chapter 7

**BB says: **It only seems right that I warn people of the ongoing dry spell to my updates. My life is getting OFF THE CHAINS.

Aside from him being handsome and charming Psyche acknowledged the fact that she'd married a man with a flair for the dramatic. She had known it from the moment she'd watched him argue with his weapons in that alley, so long ago, concerned with the distribution of one sticky soul and looking at a near panic when others didn't quite agree. She knew it now from the depressions he would allow himself to fall into at the words of his peers or students, the little shows to let them know that he had feelings and they shouldn't bother fearing a being with feelings _too much _because one of those feelings was caring for them.

Once, the reaper had gone personally to reap one of his students. The young man had died, of all things, in a boating accident. Lord Death had walked around in a miserable fog for _weeks, _his woe palpable and agonizing through the link with his wife_._

Psyche pried up her head from where she leaned on their headboard as her husband entered the room. They had a floor-length mirror for just such an occasion and she stretched as he dusted himself off, stepping over their dog. Tar had grown considerably over the weeks but had yet to fill out the massive paws on his little form, loose skin still making it possible to lift him by the nape without doing harm. He had been gnawing at a massive, bloody bone before Death entered the room and had perked up immediately as the reaper's mirror rippled. He lunged forward with a howl that sounded like he was injured, dancing about his adopted father with spastic joy. It would be another few months before the young pup would be able to breath hellfire but smoke curled at his nostrils as he playfully yipped and nipped.

"That was fast," Psyche grumbled, stifling a yawn. Lord Death sighed in a long-suffering manner as he unknotted his tie with his fingers, his other hand toying with Tar's ears. "Fast? It's been eight hours!"

"Exactly. Did Father Time concede his minutes or something?" Lord nodded as he slid out of his cloak. "Not quite willingly though…we may have discouraged him with our general disinterest in his anger surrounding new calendars." Psyche stifled a guffaw. Tar's dance ended with his black bottom hitting the carpet, tail wriggling hard enough to shift his little body. Lord Death cooed and offered one of the thick bison bones kept on hand for dog treats. "Of course. Calendars. Very important. Although a new day has been added, hasn't it?"

"Yes, and Time's _livid._" Lord Death shook his head and approached for the kiss he was always given upon returning from a meeting. He frowned when he saw that Sigh sat in the middle of the very large mattress. The frown deepened when he noticed her smirking as he pulled his body onto the bed.

"That's right," she drawled. "Crawl to me like a _whore._" He narrowed his eyes.

"You're the worst."

"You married the worst. You knew what you were getting into." She leaned to meet him in the middle. They settled comfortably with her leaning against him and reopening her book.

"Who was at the door?" Lord Death referred, of course, to the visitor nearly taking their door off the hinges before he left. Sigh turned a page, not bothering to look up. "Sasha. Warning me the magical community is taking note of my personal life _again._"

"Of course."

"Well, I tried to tell her a story to put her mind at ease but we were interrupted by a call-" Psyche paused. Her willingness to share everything with her husband had nearly been her downfall. "A call?" Lord Death prodded, curious at his wife's sudden silence.

_She couldn't tell him._

_She just…really couldn't._

"Yeah," she lied quickly. "Sasha had to leave. I'll have to finish her story later." Lord Death looked at Psyche carefully. A paranoid part of her was _absolutely certain _he knew she was leaving something out. One of the downsides of having interwoven auras and souls that whispered to each other, she supposed.

_It was all her fault._

"…oh."

"Yeah. The story was the one about Rene. How we met them, what _amazing _parents we were. You know. The typical. We're actually expecting a visit from them soon." Death perked up a bit. "Right! I nearly forgot their last letter. It sounds like things are going well for them." Psyche swelled with pride. "Of course. They're our kid after all. We don't raise wimps."

"We only have one to go by." Psyche sat up straight, her fists on her hips. "Hey, hey! Technically we have _two_." Lord Death hummed through his nose amusedly but he continued to scrub her face with his gaze. Psyche kept her haughty smile, forcing her soul to smooth over the ripples that signified a lie.

_I __**can't **__tell him._

She snapped her book shut. "I owe you a story too, don't I?" The corner of Death's mouth lifted. "Do you?" Psyche's eyes hooded as she sensed victory…in the battle, not the war. Because Lord Death wasn't going to forget that she was purposefully misleading him. In fact, knowing his character, he was going to be even more angry upon learning the truth.

Regardless, Psyche had never been overly fond of considering consequences she didn't like. It had also been quite a while since they were intimate and now that she was past the stage of feeling nauseous and tired she realized how much she had missed him.

"The story," she tapped his knee his with her fingers. "Of our first night…together?" Lord Death narrowed his eyes like he sensed the trap but didn't pull away when her hand came to rest on the inside of his thigh.

"Sigh-"

"It wasn't as if Sigh had wanted to get married, anyway. Yes, she figured she loved Kid. Quite a bit, actually. And no, she honestly couldn't imagine her life without him after two years of flitting about one another, getting to know one another. She just thought the entire institution of marriage to be an outdated thing. A creature of necessity from millennia past, where women were only expected to settle and pop out kids and their value was akin to that of chickens or cows. Currency.

And although Sigh had been born (she was relatively certain) somewhere in those histories she fancied herself a woman of the future. As one who had evolved beyond the safety net of tradition that could so easily be smothering. This was why she went ahead and got a Bachelors in both Political Science and Theology, and was working her way through a Masters in International Conflict. It was why she insisted on working and paying rent on her apartment, despite Kid's not so subtle hints at trying to spoil her. It was why she rolled her eyes at Madame's prodding and Lord Death blatant questions.

But she knew Kid wanted it. The white ribbons and the bouquets and the dances in the spotlight. She had seen the way his eyes glazed over at all the unions they had attended. How he watched the brides traipse down the aisles, his gaze gentle on the side of Sigh's face during agonizingly barren vows. Sigh loved her friends -really, she did- but if she had to sit through one more tear-filled "confession" as to how the bride and groom were the light of their partner's lives she was going to vomit acid and turn her hair into fire.

She could do it, too.

It was a great spell she normally reserved for Halloween.

But she loved Kid. It scared her to admit. But she _**loved **_him.

And the damned fool of a man was a romantic.

She felt like the entire world stopped when he kneeled, like some missing part of her had lit up like replacing a dead bulb on a string. He was stupid and awful and incredible for making her cry. That worn out ring box in his hand, a familiar stranger after years out of her sight…

Preparations were as rough as she'd expected them to be, but after helping to arrange so many unions of her friends Sigh found her own wedding ridiculously simple. She didn't have to ask permission to do anything, confirmation that the colors of the centerpieces and the flowers and the gowns were right. She just went with what she liked. Something modest…but not _too _modest, because life was hardly _too _modest. Classy with a flare of ratchet. Chic and flashy. A stage whisper of an event. Sigh was going to leave the singles' scene with an explosion of silence.

She wasn't going to lie to herself; she wanted expense. She wanted her wedding to shine against the others and she wasn't shy about loosening Kid's purse strings to do it. If she had learned anything from knowing the reapers for years, it was they _never _seemed to hurt for money. They weren't wasteful. They just seemed to be able to snap their fingers (and open a coin purse) and worldly problems seemed to vanish. It had been intimidating when Sigh mentioned her desire to go to college and Death the Kid had tried to write an ENORMOUS check without batting an eye. She had stopped him, showing him her scholarships and her savings and her intention to work through this without help. But it was nice to date someone so financially stable. Even better to marry them, she supposed.

But it wasn't about the money. Sigh didn't even consider the dollar signs most days. Most days were spent with passing touches and meeting eyes and private jokes. Burned food and broken glasses and calm, warm nights. And that was what marriage was about. Because, in the end, a wedding is just a fancy doorway to something much deeper. It was annoying and tacking and tedious but the closer they drew to the even the more hypocritically excited and nervous Sigh felt herself becoming. She could hardly speak of it without blushing or giggling, ranting about center pieces and doilies. She was becoming that which she had once hated.

But she drew the line at the Honeymoon.

Honeymoons seemed so damn _pointless. _If they wanted to spend time together all they had to do was shoo their friends and relatives away; it didn't seem necessary to leave the bloody _country._ And the money! Honestly, what did blasting away hundreds or thousands of dollars to sit on one's ass and stare into the eyes of their spouse _possibly _do to benefit a marriage? Wasn't the point of marriage to be able to spend _the rest of their bloody lives _staring at each other? How could doing that at a resort be different than doing it in one's kitchen? Such overindulgence nearly made her sick. Sigh meant it when she said no. And she wasn't going to change her mind! She was already ashamed at her change in regards to the wedding…but any further accommodation of her own whimsy would surely be the death of her pride.

She'd say is over and over and over until she convinced everyone that she meant it. Madame, Maka, the ladies of _Forbidden Fantasy_. No, no, _no. _And Kid had agreed. All he wanted was Sigh in a white dress. Ah, and surrounded by flowers. Smiling through tears as she approached him…

Damned man was a romantic. But maybe not a fool.

Patty had whined.

Liz had pouted.

And Lord Death became very, very, sullen.

UGH.

Sigh completely left it up to Lord Death for arrangement. She and Kid had been around the world several times at this point and they couldn't imagine this occasion being one of note unless it was a surprise. Lord Death went along with it. The way he clapped his hands at their surrender led Sigh to believe he thought breaking their will to be a wonderful game.

She hissed a nasty insult in Swahili.

The bastard grinned behind his mask.

Liz and Patty would be tagged along. It was foolish for a reaper to be too far from his weapons at any time, and the two pistols seemed rather happy with the thought of spending two weeks on vacation. In fact, it was the Thompsons that hyped Death the Kid and Psyche to the extent where the two immortals at least agreed to try and tolerate their forced vacation.

Almost immediately after their reception -before either had the chance to change their minds and clothes- they were whisked away to the humble Death City airport, shoved onto the plane in a kidnapper-esk manner and shipped off to Mexico.

Sigh was sick the entire way. First, there was the flight. Her main memory from the plane ride to Florida and back was her new husband's comforting hand on her shoulder, vague amusement in his voice ('so you can careen through the air, _miles_ off the ground on a _stick,_ but put you in metal and you're putty?'). She had mumbled curses at him and the pilot and the world in general, all the while Liz and Patty sitting across the aisle, gushing over their First Class seats. Sigh was just grateful for the quality of their barf bags.

On the cruise she found time to change out of the gown that, while very pretty (she felt like a Queen, really, she did) was slowly smothering her to death. This was done just in time for her to crash to the bed in fits of sea sickness. Once again, Death the Kid found himself comforting his ill, cursing wife, his weapons gambling and drinking. They only stopped once to call their respective husbands before cleaning out enough poker tables to get them kicked out of the ship's extravagant casino.

After spending a restless night on the boat, Sigh was a mess. Screw the fact it was late morning, screw the lovely weather and smiling locals, all she wanted to do was sleep on a mattress that wasn't swaying under her.

She had intended to take a nap. She told herself that all she needed was a brief rest. And then their honeymoon could _legitimately _begin. Although, considering how sick she had been and how gross she felt, she wouldn't have been surprised if Death the Kid had woken her up with an annulment. In either case, she figured an hour or two of rest would be enough to recharge her body and still her tumbling stomach.

When Sigh blinked back to wakefulness the room was dark, the sun having set several hours previous. Confusion was her first response, as the bed she rested in was not her own, the air smelled much heavier than Death City, something salty hinted at in the atmosphere. She nearly panicked; where was she? What had happened? Her heart was pounding in her chest and she tried to shoot of the bed to get her bearings.

Only to find an arm draped across her waist.

Kid grumbled in his sleep and Sigh stilled. Oh, right.

She had gotten married.

She had gotten sick.

She vaguely remembered throwing up on Kid's shoes. The young reaper hadn't flinched away. No, he had helped her to sit down, gotten her water, pressed his cool hand to her hot head.

Guilt was the next emotion to tackle Sigh and though she tried to shallow it away it stuck stubbornly at the back of her throat. Every time…every time she had looked up, he had been there. Hovering, nursing, comforting her. She couldn't think of a moment he had been away from her side, not to explore the ship or the island. Kid had carried her into their hotel room the way she'd seen in movies but it was more for necessity than romance; she had felt like a foal stumbling around on her sick noodle legs. Had Kid had fun at all? Had he been nothing but her nursemaid for _days?_

Sigh felt as though she was dead weight, now, at the worst time. They were supposed to be enjoying their union, enjoying _fucking __**Cancun. **_And where was she? Sleeping the day away and dragging her new husband down with her. She sighed and buried her face in her hands. _Way to fuck up in the first week, Sigh. Has to be a record. You don't deserve this, you don't deserve him, you don't deserve…_

Craving a shower and distance, Sigh tried to peel herself away from Kid only for his arm to tighten as he mumbled an objection. She wriggled again. Again, his arm forced her closer. Sigh pursed her lips as she realized that the only way to escape his clutches was to wake him. She struggled to roll over, his grip never loosening.

It was a full moon and the position of their room allowed the light to illuminate her surroundings. In her haste to get to the bed Sigh had failed to appreciate the accommodations allotted them in a honeymoon suite at a five-star hotel. She and Kid were laying in a large bed with a dark gold duvet, mussed a bit from their sleep. The room itself was at least thrice the size of Sigh's old apartment, and she held little doubt they were in the penthouse. A chandelier hung high on the ceiling, a broad view of the ocean peering in through bay windows. A gentle sea breeze was stirring the curtains and brought the distant sound of crashing waves.

The moon's grin highlighted the stripes in Kid's hair and the paleness of his flesh made him glow ethereally. He was still in his day clothes; black slacks and a white button up with the top two buttons undone, his face relaxed save for the occasional twitch of deep sleep. Sigh gently leaned closer, feeling his breath brush across her lips and cheek before she shook him.

His eyes glowed in the dark of the room as they focused on her, gaze more alert than she thought a man fresh from sleep should be. 'Hey,' she said shyly, reminding herself that she was ruining his honeymoon. He blinked at her tone, brow habitually wrinkling. 'Hello,' a gentle smirk teased at his lips 'Mrs. Death.' Sigh felt a blush tickling her hairline and turned away in mock anger. 'Shut up.' Kid chuckled as his lifted his hand to press his thumb to her jaw. He obviously wanted a kiss but she clumsily dodged. 'I wouldn't,' she warned. 'I'm fairly certain I taste of BO and vomit.' Although his gentle ministrations had her wondering if he thought she had ruined their time together or if it was a figment of her imagination.

The blatant fondness in Kid's eyes made Sigh believe the latter. She wriggled in another bid at escape. 'I want to shower…' she whined as he continued to hold her close. The back of his hand rested against her forehead. 'How do you feel, Mrs. Death?'

'S-stop calling me that…'

'It's who you are.'

'Not sure if I'm big enough for that skin, yet.' Kid raised his eyebrows. 'Ah, I'm afraid you're going to have to start learning if you are to be a proper lady of The Gallows.'

'Oh?' Sigh lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes. 'How so, _Mr._ _Eclair_?'

'For starters,' Kid lifted a finger, ignoring the married name she'd given him 'every morning you must spend two hours doing lunge-thrusts while wearing long gloves and wool socks to keep your skin soft.' Sigh bit back a snort. Kid's unoccupied hand tapped her waist affectionately. 'Oh? Really?'

'Of course. And you can forget about going outdoors; the harsh desert air would threaten your complexion and if you're not at ten, you're at zero. Then there's the matter of your hoop skirts, and the bird-feces based foundation that must be applied to your face every evening so that you always look rested and are simply _perfect _to be attacked by a cat.'

'Does the species of cat matter?'

'Himalayan is preferable, mankun acceptable. But so help you if you're caught with a tabby or calico. I'll be driven mad with rage and disgust.' Sigh disguised the laugh that bubbled up in her chest with an aristocratic scoff.

'Of course. And what are your duties?' Kid pursed his lips to kill his smile. 'As man of the house, I must make sure that you fix your flaws while embracing and doing nothing to address my own. I am free to "let myself go" as much as I want. You'll be lucky if I ever smile at you, but if I do it will be slight, and, at times, accompanied by a nod of approval. But don't assume that my love of you will ever overshadow my love of reputation.' A guffaw freed Sigh's giggles. 'God, this sounds _awful_.' Kid shrugged, smiling. 'It was my childhood.'

'…that doesn't sound historically accurate.'

'…maybe not the part about the bird shit.' And Sigh lost herself to laughter once more. Kid waited until she calmed before he spoke again. He truly enjoyed the way mirth made her body shake and her face glow. 'In all honesty, Psyche,' his face was earnest. 'You're perfect for this, simply because, you are perfect for me.' Sigh sobered at the hushed sound of his voice. She averted her eyes in embarrassment only for them to bounce back to him, seeking confirmation. All she could think to say…

'I…am?' Kid's mouth quirked as he nodded, once. Sigh pursed her lips. His words made her uncomfortable, simply because she didn't know what to do with them. How was it that he always knew what to say…?

His eyes didn't leave hers as she brought a set of hands up to cup his face, thumbs gently brushing along his jaw as his hands folded behind her back to pull her closer. There was a fragile intensity to the moment, and Sigh wasn't sure if she exacerbated it or destroyed it by pulling him towards her. She pressed her lips to his gently, a small smile on her face and their noses tapping together. She chuckled breathily as his mouth traced her skin, leaving feathered kisses on her face and neck.

'So ticklish,' his voice was husky and humored. 'Shut _up, _you Douche.' He hummed and kissed her mouth, arms tightening and eyes drifting shut. This was a path that was very familiar and always pleasant; his hands drifting low on her back, hers at his chest and waist, pulling as close to one another as clothing would allow. There never seemed to be time for more, never time to remove more than a blouse here or a bra there. Never time-

Sigh gasped as his hands grasped her intimately, shock running through her body as he tipped her onto her back and hovered above her. The kiss was deepened as he slanted his mouth over hers and she looped her arm around the back of his neck to pull him even closer. The buttons of his shirt snagged on those of her sundress as their torsos pressed together. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and hooked her leg around his, growling as his hand inched up her thigh. She hoped he didn't mind she hadn't shaven in a few days.

And hadn't brushed her teeth in twenty-four hours.

Oh, lord, and her hair was a _mess _wasn't it?

No, no, no, no. This wasn't how it was supposed to be! It has to be _special, _she had to make it _special, _because they were only ever going to get one Honeymoon and she couldn't see how being smelly and hairy could possibly appeal to her new husband at the moment.

She froze. As she hesitated Kid paused, pulling away and looking into her face.

'What's wrong?' Sigh felt a bit guilty at seeing the concern in his eyes. It was a rather nasty feeling considering the previous guilt at having ruined the first chapter of their Honeymoon. But she would make it up to him. She would make sure that he enjoyed the rest of their time.

'I just, um,' she pursed her warm lips. She told herself her blush was due to his proximity and not her own words. 'I want a shower. I _need _a shower. Before…you know…' Kid's brow crinkled a bit before his eyes got very wide. The red in his cheeks glowed nearly on the level of his gaze.

'Ah! Y-yes! You do!' Noting the offense in her eyes he stuttered to continue. 'I-I mean, a shower would be relaxing and I know you've had it rough the past few days and perhaps you should take one, I mean, to make you feel more comfortable, and I will wait here, n-not that I've thought about joining you, but not that I don't want to, I mean I already took a shower, not that I felt like you would want me to, you know maybe I'll just sit quietly now.' Sigh fought down a nervous laugh as she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

'You do that, Hon. I'll be back.'

'Mmhm,' still not trusting himself to speak, Kid's eyes cut to the side and his lips were pressed tightly together. Sigh hummed in amusement as she slid her way off the bed. Their luggage was still by the door, the dark monoliths of Kid's designer set supporting the mismatching duffle bags and rollers that held Sigh's belongings. She shuffled awkwardly through them, feeling his eyes on her back as she found what she was looking for. She gathered all that she needed, determined to make it all in one trip and grateful for her four arms.

'Turn around,' she commanded. Although she spoke low her voice seemed to echo through the room and Kid jumped. 'Ah! R-right! Alright.' Sigh darted into the bathroom, trusting that he had obeyed her command and had not seen what she had unpacked.

She unloaded her belongings on the white marble of the counter, standing in a bathroom that felt like the size of her bedroom back home. The tub was practically a Jacuzzi; maybe it _was _one? She stored that information for later. Sigh stared at herself in the mirror, hollows under her eyes as she recovered from illness and the frizzy mess of her bun escaping her band. She made a face. It wasn't the worst she had seen but it was hardly pleasing. Sigh could handle it though; she was a master of showmanship.

Kid only opened his eyes when he heard the shower cut on, heat radiating from his face as he also crept off the bed. So…they had made it. Sigh was feeling better, and the room was high quality (and subtly symmetrical) and they were alone. There were no papers to be graded or gum sticking the pages of books together. No weapons or meisters or witches busting in on them. Alone…on their Honeymoon…in their room. And a man of his age was perfectly aware what was expected of them. _Hyper-_aware, really.

The desire to be fully intimate with another person was rather foreign to Kid. As a being that saw the reality beyond reality, the souls behind the bodies, physical aesthetic had never been able to encourage a reaction within him. Love and lust songs hardly made sense to him, stories of sexual conquest seemed base and crude compared to the grander beauty of all that life could be. Such physical gratification paled in comparison to the courtship of the great bards, the romance of the unobtainable oblivion that rested in the truly beautiful soul of another. To this day, Kid stood by this understanding. It colored his vision. It was simply a part of who he was. And for most of his life he had believed that would be all there was by way of romance, for him. His solitude was one of peace and simplicity; it lacked the blood and the tears of what the world told him love was.

Eros' white, _white _teeth and his red, _red _suit flashed through Kid's mind.

Being in love with Psyche meant questioning that reality. Questioning what love really was. Was he even in love? Could he be without knowing what it was? Perhaps this was just instinct finally playing its hand? How could he know it he was truly in love with her or if the reaper in him was insisting he was? Was there a sign he was missing? Some clue that he was right or wrong in assuming that he, Death the Kid, _Death, _had chosen this woman and it had not been some long overdue biological impulse? He was tormented by this question, tormented by what it would mean if he ever discovered that this was not a decision he had made on his own. He was not an _overly _stubborn man but his independence had always been something of which he was fond. He detested being dragged about, misled, _manipulated, _even if it was his own body doing the manipulating. The way she looked at him. Leaned on him. Smiled at him. It would not be just if he did not love her, truly, in return.

Inevitably, he cracked.

He finally went to his father. There was shame in this; he seemed to be fleeing to the older reaper's apron strings more often of late and it seemed counterintuitive as the clock inched towards Kid's time to take command. Lord Death had given his son that look that he always gave when he found something Kid had said both amusing and frustrating. There was a fondness to it. And a dimension of "love" Kid supposed only parents would understand. 'You do,' was all Lord Death offered his son by way of comfort. 'You do love her. It's fine.'

'But how do I _know?_' Kid had insisted, annoyed with himself and his father for all this uncertainty. 'Is it not instinct? Was I not **led **to, how you said, "the person who most suited me mental and physically"? Am I not trapped in some…some pheromone leaking trap? HOW DO I KNOW?' Lord Death crossed his arms with a sigh as he watched his son scratching at his head in frustration. Honestly. The boy…young _man _overthought _everything_. The curse of being very intelligent, Death supposed. His late wife would claim such a thing, in any case. He had heard that intelligence was inherited from one's mother…

'When you see a bright, blinking, neon arrow,' Death said patiently, regaining his son's attention. 'Do you always follow it?'

'What?'

'Even if it offers free cake, free chicken, free all of your favorite foods. Your favorite books. Favorite flowers. Favorite sights and smells and sounds. The sign offers it all. But it's up to you, if you wish to follow it.' Lord Death shrugged. 'You didn't follow it when it lit up over Miss Maka's head, so it went off again. Along came Miss Sigh, and whether it was curiosity or fascination you followed the sign. It was you. It's still you. The end.'

Kid decided that he hated love. Or maybe he loved it?

It was hard…but it was sweet. It was painful…but it was pleasant. It was complicated…and terribly simple. And Kid wanted to do right by this awful, _beautiful, _feeling.

Psyche LaBelle Eclair was a very beautiful woman and his reaction to her was natural in that fact. Not natural as in the nature of a reaper, but rather, in that of a man. The sway of her hips, the heaving of her breast, the quirk of her lips. The way she held herself, chin high, shoulders back, eyes sharp and searching…physical attraction was in no way an issue. But…physical attraction did nothing to dispel the fact that he was _severely _lacking in experience in this area. He knew five ways to hard-boil an egg and had mastered the art of Shinigami fighting but making love to a woman had him in pieces. He knew the bits and the facts of anatomy. Technically, he knew _how _to do it. But he wasn't sure how to make it _enjoyable_.

Although some would say it was enjoyable for the man in most cases, either way.

Kid turned to research.

Embarrassing, shameful, oddly fascinating, research.

Then he cleared his computer's browser history.

And, after a moment of hesitation, he destroyed his computer and scattered the remains.

And he made plans.

Kid made a face to fight down the uncertainty roiling in his head. He was not one to be intimidated. Sigh had left her bags strewn about and unzipped in her quest for whatever she had taken into the bathroom but Kid still managed to maneuver to his luggage. With grim determination, he dragged down the zipper on his smallest bag.

'I can't do this,' Sigh scowled at her own reflection. 'No…I can. I've come this far…' the make-up artist in Sigh was rather proud of what she had done. The art of her face was overdone but tasteful, playing on her facial assets and framing her features in swirls of silver and black to match the teddy she wore. It was predominately see-through (as was the nature of such things) with light grey fringe and black polka-dots conveniently placed to _barely _hide her modesty. If she sneezed, a boob would fly out. End of story.

A small veil was pinned about her face to remind Kid of the occasion, hair curled in a mussed fashion. She'd squeezed herself into tall heels that made her toes scream but her legs sang and the _pièce de résistance _in the form of garters and stockings that hugged high and lasciviously on her thighs.

Sigh looked like a hooker. Not one of the high-end ones, either. She'd seen those ladies in furs and sequins, lurking in the lobbies of classy Las Vegas hotels. Sigh looked like one that hadn't hit the ringer yet but was more than ready. She felt strangely _powerful _in the ensemble. Untouchable. A holy whore. She was actually proud of how slutty it turned out. Her hesitation was entirely based on her fear Kid wouldn't like it. Perhaps he would think it too skanky? Too classless? Too unrefined for a lady of his home? She chewed her lip.

…too late now. She had _not _put all this together for nothing! He was going to see it, damn it, and if he didn't like it well…they had time. All the time in the world to learn to make each other happy. Marriage was not just about her or about him it was about-

-them, he thought to himself, jumping as the bathroom door finally opened. Her timing was impeccable. Kid had just lit the final candle and had been reaching for the bottle of champagne. But upon seeing her, he wasn't certain he had the patience for conversation and flirting. His tongue suddenly felt swollen in his mouth. The bottom of the bottle was set back in the ice with a 'crunch'.

The coward in Sigh led to her eyes being closed when she first opened the door, although she forced what she knew was a stressed look from her face as she leaned on the door frame. 'Lady Death,' she purred nervously 'ready for…'

Candles dotted the room, casting warm orange light. White rose petals rested on the freshly made bed and speckled the floor, gentle piano playing from a speaker Sigh had failed to notice previously. Kid had changed clothes, and was actually wearing way more than he had been in when she first entered the bathroom. It looked like one of his three-piece suits, but Sigh's gaze had been trained by years of seeing his wardrobe and she knew it was lightyears from the quality he usually wore. It fit him in a flattering way (her eyes went to his chest and back to his behind and back up to his chest and down to his…) but it's cheapness seemed wrong, somehow. Like it recognized its own inferiority. His eyes were wide and startled as he stared at her and Sigh noticed that his fingers were twitching. His lips moved. His tongue clicked drily in his mouth. He cleared his throat and Sigh felt herself smirking as her confidence returned with a vengeance.

'O-oh, Psyche,' his voice almost cracked on her name. 'You've returned. Would you like…you can…have a seat, please.' He gestured to a chair that had been pulled to the center of the room, surrounded by spirals of petals. Sigh allowed her hips to sway as she clacked over the chair, leaning over the back to place her hand on the seat. She felt her clothes strain to keep her breasts from falling free. '_This _chair?' she asked breathily, two hands trailing up her thighs as she cocked her hips. 'This one, right here?' She walked around it and planted herself lightly, watching his Adam's apple bob as she crossed her legs.

'Uh,' Kid croaked. 'Yes, thank you. Before…before we begin I would like to establish some rules. Sigh frowned, crossing her arms. Kid's eyes flickered to the gesture before bouncing back up to her face.

'Rules?'

'Yes.' He toyed with a cufflink that Sigh could tell was plastic. Honestly, being around him had given her a bourgeois eye on a ghetto budget. 'Well,' he cleared his throat 'this took a bit of time and the compromise of no small amount of pride to put together…I'm not sure my weapons will ever look at me without waggling their eyebrows again…so, yes. Rules, Psyche.' She frowned deeper. She was tempted to deny him this -what gave him the right to take over so absolutely in the bedroom- but she was curious as to what all this could possibly mean. So she nodded. 'Okay. What are the rules?' For reasons beyond Sigh's understanding he blushed deeply.

'Well, er, first of all, no talking.' Sigh felt herself frowning again. 'But…ugh. Okay.'

'…and no touching.'

'What the Hel-'

'Actually, _I_ can touch _you_. But you may not reciprocate.'

'HOW DO YOU EXPECT US TO….UGGHHHHHH! FINE!' Kid smirked through his blush at her frustration. 'Well then,' he pulled a black sequined mask from within the jacket of his cheap suit, placing it and an equally bedazzled bowler hat on his head. 'I suppose we can begin then.' Sigh hadn't been paying attention, but she now noticed the pause in the gentle jazz music that had been humming under their conversation. When it kicked back up again it was much harder, all saxophone and trumpet and bass. 'Kid wha-' he had turned from her but he lifted a hand and wagged a finger as to say '_no talking_'. Sigh's mouth shut with a snap. This all seemed achingly familiar…but her brain was refusing to process where, or rather, who, it was coming from.

That is, until a sudden upswing in the music and Kid arched his foot and swung his leg out in what her experienced eye told her was the start to…_dance._

All the blood in her body hit her face at once and she was suddenly concerned she would burn through her makeup.

Death the Kid was very limber for a man. It was justified via his intense training in the fighting style of the reaper. Lithe movements and silent ways, power concealed in the flicker of whipcord muscle and the bending of long bone. He was capable of a full, graceful, split. A backbend. Sigh was certain he could scratch his head with his toe if he felt the desire. The motions of his body were trained into his very being, although every breath, every blink, seemed so beautifully effortless that if one paid attention they would be all the more aware of the fact that his species rested on a plane parallel but not the same as Man. It seemed unfair that he could manipulate that unspoken loveliness into anything aside from the battlefield. Sigh had never dared dream…

As a dancer Sigh had always been…_aggressive _in her movements. Establishments like Forbidden Fantasy only survived by carving out a hole in the industry. They couldn't be _just another _burlesque house in Los Vegas; they had to be BIG! LOUD! Confidence was to ooze from their lapels, teasing dark promises overlaid with glitter and perfume. Their brother establishment, The Cave (which Sigh had visited scarcely because the men who worked there was just too damn attractive and she was too damn awkward) operated likewise. So did Barry's Babes, Typhoon Sally, Highway to Heather, and Ring-a-Ding. Those establishments weren't quite as _classy _as Sigh liked to think her mother's properties were, but they all had their niches and reputations. Sigh had visited all, scoping out competition, taking notes. But she had never seen anything like Death the Kid.

He was fast but his gestures gentle. Sincere. A man with an inquiry, holding a full-body conversation with his muse. Hips. Lips. Dips. Flips. He nailed Madame's four cue points like he had written them himself. But he was still so ethereal and pristine Sigh felt guilty for staring at the intimate way the costume hugged his body, the peeks of pale flesh.

Then that bastard reached up with a long-fingered hand and in one breathless moment ripped his suit jacket completely free of his body. His tie remained. As did his vest. His cuffs. But she only just realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath. She froze as he loped close, close enough for his signature smell to waft over her. Sigh reached forward without thought, only for him to pull away before her fingers could make contact. A small growl escaped her throat, unbidden. A single finger pulled lose his tie, letting the silk flow between his fingers before flickering to the floor. The motion was so terribly spiteful to Sigh's attempts to control the heat burgeoning in her body that she nearly cursed him in every language she knew. But she didn't want him to stop. Her eyes were _starved._

And then he was standing before her, lips parted and mischievous amusement in his eyes. He was aware of the effect he was having on her and dared to enjoy it. Seducing this woman who had tried to seduce him this night. Sigh gasped, immediately regretting it as the smell of him once again stoked the fire in her belly.

'_Fucker,_' Sigh managed to gasp brokenly. He leaned in close, lips ghosting over her skin but not making contact. 'Patience,' he hummed. She felt his voice echo in her body. And then he was gone. Sigh was so cold she could hardly stand it. She wanted to scream in frustration but bit her lips between her teeth as buttons tinkered to the floor. And then his torso was bare. She swore if he ever came near her again she would tackle him and peel him like a banana.

_Prick._

The air was unbearably hot, impossibly heady. Sigh felt more restrained than ever as her chest began heaving, her legs rubbing tightly together. She wanted to strip, envious of Kid's freedom.

His thumbs hooked into the waist of his pants. She held her breath…only for his hands to wander away uselessly. as his hands grasped the edges of her chair on either side of her thighs. His touch seemed to burn the tender skin beneath her fishnets and she choked back a whimper only to yelp as he lifted the chair onto its back.

Sigh was suddenly pinned beneath Kid, aware he was breathing as hard as she was as he allowed himself to fall between her thighs. She watched the tension flicker across his jaw as he realized that her excuse for underwear that night was hardly a scrap of lace. She reached up to take the mask from his face, pull him closer, and almost sobbed when he snatched and pinned her hands above her head. Two of her wrists fit in one of his hands. Her legs quivered with the desire to latch onto him, to keep him close, His movement almost made her swallow her tongue. His name was pinned at the back of her throat; all that escaped was a desperate whine.

Kid paused. It was for half a second, really, but it was enough for Sigh to snatch her hands free. Her arms wrapped about his neck and ribs. Their breaths mingled. 'Sigh,' he growled into her face, 'the _rules_.' Sigh looped her legs about his waist. He ground his hips into hers meanly. 'NO. Just…I give up Kid _please _just-' She hadn't realized she was panting until his parted lips met hers and his teeth scraped against her tongue as he wrapped them even closer together. She writhed restlessly against him and he snarled before he pulled away.

'Damn,' he muttered, hissing as Sigh ran her tongue down his neck. 'Thought I could…didn't think…' Sigh shook her head because perfection was already in front of her and she didn't understand why he was focusing on a routine she had no intention of letting him finish at this point. No. She was too hot, too _itchy. _Kid grunted and she wasn't sure if it was his own obsessive thoughts or the fact that she was pressed against a sensitive area that had birthed the response. 'I suppose…I could finish later.' Sigh wanted to say something clever and sexy. Like how she thought they could _both _finish later. But she was done playing the teasing minx. It was time to be the ravenous lioness.

A tension that had been building for years, one they both had unconsciously ignored, was demanding attention. It screamed for skin on skin, soul to soul.

Kid attempted to lift her from where the chair was lying on its back but the position was simply too awkward and she was wriggling too much. He managed to pull her up but he fell backwards. Sigh squealed a giggle as Kid cursed, refusing to disconnect their bodies. He sat up so that she straddled him, rose petals clinging to their bodies as he kissed her again. His hands were fumbling with the laces done up her back as her fingers trailed up the flickering skin of his abdomen. She felt his gasp as she bushed the waistband of his pants, the final ribbons in her ensemble ripped in his desperation to have more of her. She frowned a bit. This had been a pretty expensive outfit.

They were grasping, eyes roving bare torsos. Kid's hands traced Sigh's waist, following smooth skin to the ripe globes of flesh resting just above her ribs. He had seen her without a shirt but never _completely _revealed as she was now. Sigh refused to be ashamed; she twisted her hands in the crumpled fabric of his pants to keep herself from cowering. She shivered as gentle fingers brushed against her chest, sucking in breaths through her teeth as Kid's tongue flickered against her.

Her bravado fell to pieces as she brought her hands to his hair, desperate to keep him close. She whimpered and felt him hum against her skin as his hands cupped her backside. It was getting to be too much for her. An invisible vise grasped her heart and lungs, her body shaking and her teeth ground together. She wondered if this was what it was like to die.

Just as Sigh was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen getting to her brain Kid pulled away, breath ghosting over the dark marks beginning to blossom on her chest from his ministrations. The kiss that followed was smooth, languid, and scalding. Molten sugar seared through Sigh's veins, radiating from where his fingers had grasped just beneath the line of her panties and his tongue tied with hers. Two of her hands fumbled with his pants. She hummed a wordless noise of approval upon finding that he was not wearing anything beneath them. The hot pink of his face seemed to deepen for a moment but before he could speak she boldly slid her hands between the fabric and his skin.

He bucked so hard he nearly dislodged her as he hissed a curse. She clung to him, nipping at his throat as her trembling fingers wrapped about him. His fingers pressed harder against her, leaving purple dots and red crescents on her skin. She'd just begun working her hand when he stiffened and shifted beneath her. She blinked as her back was shoved to the floor, her hands removed from him. Sigh scowled slightly. The tearing of fabric was heard once more as her petty excuse for underwear was forcibly removed. 'Kid!' she somehow managed to scold, frustrated with losing another piece of her costume. 'Don't just-' She choked, her voice morphing into a high-pitched keen as a finger slid into her, relentlessly beginning to move.

Kid had been so gentle with her for so much of the night his sudden aggression caught Sigh off guard. She ground her teeth, willing her vision to clear and noting the danger in his eyes. Perhaps she had pushed him a bit far…

She bit her lip and arched her back, legs falling further apart as another finger begged entry. 'K-kid,' she wasn't sure what she'd say even if her voice was still functioning. She wasn't sure if she wanted to beg him to stop or to continue forever. Just as she felt herself clamp down on him, the edges of her vision just starting to turn white he pulled his fingers free. Sigh gave a shout of fury as tears gathered in her eyes.

'Fuckin' Fucker, fuck, fuck, _fuck!' _Kid smiled slightly at her irritation, his eyes intense as he worked his pants lower down his legs. His kiss was messy and rushed, slightly off kilter as his nose bumped her cheek. Still snarling Sigh snagged his lip in her mouth, biting down to show her disapproval of his actions. Kid had the nerve to hum amusedly against her skin, kissing blood she'd drawn into her mouth.

'_Mean,' _he accused hazily, like his grip on reality was waning.

_'Bastard,' _Sigh tried to put fire into her voice, but it sounded vaguely like she was whispering into a chasm. Honestly, her ire was quickly being forgotten as she considered how close he was to her, the perfect way they seemed able to twine together. It still wasn't close enough. They still weren't-

Sigh's entire body seized when they finally connected, her vision blanking and her mouth falling open. It wasn't painful. No, the part of Sigh that would have made it hurt had been lost long ago, on an occasion that had no love to it. And truthfully, she had never felt any different without it. But perhaps it was the mounting pressure in this moment, with Kid. Or maybe it was the overwhelming cyclone of heat and excitement in the room. But Sigh forgot where she was and who she was and who he was. All that mattered was this glorious second of absolute oneness that overshadowed so much of what she had understood of intimacy.

Kid was shaking. She supposed, with what little remained of her conscious mind, that her reaction had scared him. His jaw was clenching as he carefully studied her face, his nostrils flaring and his pupils engorged until all that was left was a thin ring of gold about black. Sigh struggled to catch her breath before he could pull away from her, linking her ankles about his back (good **Lord **that action drove him even deeper and she could feel her own shaking starting to match his, sobs clawing up her throat) and shifted her hips. Kid took a sharp breath through his clenched teeth and Sigh grasped him by the shoulders and rolled him onto his back. She sealed their connection and arched her back with a low moan as she sat atop him.

Startled by her actions, Kid stared up at her with blatant awe. Sigh bared her teeth in an attempted smile as she leaned closer to his face. His fingers clung beneath her thighs and she rolled her hips, watching him bite his lip and clench his eyes shut. Sigh bounced, placing her hands beside his head to keep balanced. She felt her muscles tightening and aching as she continued to watch Kid's face struggle.

'What's wrong,' Sigh whimpered as she found what she was looking for and set up a rhythm. 'P-princess? Can't…nnnhnn…look at me?' Kid ground his teeth, opening his eyes to glare up at her. A bead of sweat was working its way down his temple. 'Woman,' he hissed accusatorily, dragging his nails across her hips and legs, leaving red trails. 'You're trying to kill me.' Sigh's laugh was breathless and hoarse, cut short when he sat up with one arm draped about her waist and another pulling her knee and forcing her legs wider as he began to jack hammer into her body. She clung to him, arrogance forgotten as she felt everywhere going numb save for where they overlapped. Her jaw hung open and every thrust was accented with an embarrassing squeak that would escape her throat. She locked herself around him as he covered her mouth with his, blending her mewls and his growls with the slick slide of bodies moving against one another in the dimming room.

Sigh howled as her body finally unwound about his, the temperature spiking as bolts of concentrated magic arched across the room. The warm light from the candles shifted from orange to purple to pink to glowing white as Sigh continued to rock her body against Kid's. He wasn't finished yet, made apparent when he pressed her back to the floor, maintaining his pace through her flickering muscles and spastic writhes. Sigh was almost scared when her body begin to wind itself up again, her mind still muddied and her senses overwhelmed by the smell and feel of his body over hers. His hand worked its way to where their bodies were joined and now it was her turn to accuse _him_ of attempted murder because why else would he do such a thing?

Sigh clung to Kid as she came undone for the second time, now dragging him into the heady darkness with her as the silver flames of the candles expanded to the size of bonfires, their smoke becoming dandelion seeds that ended in miniature fireworks, the shadows cast from them dancing and arching and expanding in excitement.

Sigh was still shaking when Kid shifted again, and she clung to him shamelessly as he stood and carried her to the nearly forgotten mattress.

It was too hot for the blanket, so they lay side by side, panting with their fingers folded together between them. As she heard Kid's breathing retreat to composure Sigh leaned up on her elbow to look at him. His hair was _ruined, _dried blood on his lips from her bites, his eyes still bright and nearly feral. There was a vague smile at the edges of his mouth.

'I'm sorry for ruining your dance.' Kid shook his head. 'I'd like to think we simply skipped to the best part.' Sigh chuckled. 'Fair enough. Maybe next time,' she slid her fingers up from his hand to grasp him arm. 'I dance for you?' Kid's gaze trained on her, eyes very serious. 'Yes,' he purred, 'I think I'd like that.' Sigh clucked her tongue. The heat between her legs had dimmed into a licentious warmth, her thigh muscles twitching as she rolled over.

'…again.' Kid seemed startled by her words, an eyebrow quirking and laughter in his voice. 'Again?'

'Again...,' Sigh furrowed her brow. 'But slower…and _harder_. I know you can go _harder._' She put on the facsimile of a pout. 'I'm mildly insulted you didn't send me through the floor. We're two_ very_ strong individuals so I figure sex should be a little more _dangerous._ I want to break furniture. Get rough with me.'

The surprise in Kid's eyes melted pensively, and just as Sigh began to doubt her request a dangerous smirk curled onto his face. '**Harder, **my wife wishes,' he rolled himself atop her, molten eyes aglow. '**Rougher, **was her request.' Sigh gasped as he hiked one of her legs over his shoulder, the other outwards. 'She's **challenging** me. But she doesn't know…' He leaned close, lips scraping the corner of her mouth 'the **terrible** things I want to try.'

And Death the Kid ended up paying the hotel for the repairs on a very expensive bed.

The next day was…interesting. Sigh had trouble getting up for all the best reasons, Kid was anxious about sleeping past eleven ('this never happens how could this happen?! Psyche get _up _its nearly noon and we are still in bed and there was an _itinerary _and we've skipped nearly _everything_ PSYCHE DO NOT LAUGH THIS IS SERIOUS') and Sigh had barely made it to the shower before Patty was banging at the door and demanding to go parasailing. She was _bored. _Liz was getting a massage. And perhaps later they could all go for froyo? Or papusas? Or to the beach?

Patty's interruption was for the best, Sigh thought. The look in Kid's eyes as Sigh limped to the bathroom suggested that they were about to lose another piece of their day; his schedule-related tantrum be damned.

Sigh would come to understand that this was just the beginning. Someday she would know the difference between sex and making love and _a good hardcore __**fucking **__because they had twenty minutes but damn if her husband wasn't the most fuckable thing with his tight-ass pants and his smartass smirks and the sweat seasoning his skin after training and his hand up her skirt..._

…fucking was Sigh's favorite. Although making love…she knew that had the potential to destroy her. It was on those occasions that she knew she was absolutely trapped in this. And she didn't want to go anywhere." Psyche hummed as she finished her story. As she had told it, Lord Death's head had come to rest in her lap, his eyes sliding shut. She noted his wakefulness when he smirked at the more…_interesting _parts of the tale, but he didn't move until she was finished. He sat up, gaze rising in temperature as he looked at her. "Enthralling," he drawled in faux disinterest. "Although as I recall, I was not near as patient as you made me seem. That outfit of yours was _tatters _but the end. Never stood a chance. Not the classiest outfit I've ever torn off you, but it certainly set a precedent." Sigh raised an eyebrow as she pulled off the old shirt she wore for bed, her swollen breasts falling free. "Do you remember the bruises I left on you the next morning? And the scratches on your _back? _I nearly shredded you. Everyone at the beach was staring."

"Bruises?" Lord Death scoffed, shimmying free of his shirt. Sigh trailed the valleys outlined with pale flesh flagitiously, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Do you not remember that time in the library? I swear, the title _Wuthering Heights _was indented into your backside for _days_ afterward, accelerated healing be damned. And are we not going to mention how you struggled to walk after that occasion in the janitor's closet?" Sigh kicked off her shorts with little ceremony, eager heat curling through her body familiarly.

"Who needs to walk when I can _ride _you anywhere?" Lord Death took a sharp breath as his wife tackled him, legs on either side of his body as she pressed him into the mattress and unbuttoned his slacks. The feisty meeting of their mouths decided this was going to be a _love-making _session, although there was an undertone of flame that told Psyche she could easily sharpen things to a very interesting point.

Lord Death sat up on his arms to stay close to her as she pulled away, her belly prodding into his ribs. "…this is okay?" Sigh nodded, arms looped around his neck and chest on his chest. "Catherine says we're in the clear for another two months…perhaps longer considering gestation period."

"Ah," Lord Death pressed a tooth-laden kiss to her collar bone, leaving a bruise that was sure to vanish by morning. "Best take advantage of the time we've been given." Psyche chuckled. "By all means," she whispered into his neck.

"_Ravish me._"

The sun cut through the window and Sigh cursed her husband bitterly. He had left the curtains open on purpose. He knew it was the best way to get her out of bed in the morning. Her alarm twittered gently from her nightstand and she struck the snooze button, only for Death's voice to hum through the speaker.

"Wake up," she could see his hands on his hips in her mind's eye, authority hinted in his voice although he wore nothing but a towel about his waist. "You're going to waste the day. Breakfast will be in the oven. I have business in Calcutta. See you tomorrow. Love you."

"Fuck you, Dick-wad. Mornings are shit." Sigh frowned, remembered that this was technically a recorded message and he couldn't hear her. So she rolled over and recorded it on his alarm clock. Perhaps later she'd leave it as a message on his phone as well.

After a quick shower, where she used Death's razor to shave her legs, she stumbled into the kitchen in search of the promised food. It wasn't atypical for Death to cook before he left for the day; his patience had increased considerably since the days of his youth and he enjoyed the periods of calm where he could stand at the stove and meditate. His eye for perfection made his dishes impeccably delicious and artfully crafted, unlike the butter battened tastiness that was the home-cooking Sigh was capable of. The added benefit (or perhaps more of a disadvantage) was that most of Death's dishes were healthy based, a factor he took advantage of often upon realizing he was to be a father. Sigh missed junk food. So. Damn. Much.

…she snuck cake when she knew he wasn't home. She'd be damned if her baby wasn't born with a taste for processed cheese and whipped cream.

As she pulled her braids into a low bun on her neck and settled into her armchair to grade papers the sound of the doorbell echoed through the manor. Tar sat up and barked. His voice cracked like a teenager's. Sigh starred at the homework sheet in front of her, wondering if she wanted to compromise the warm niche she had been building into the leather of her seat in favor of whoever was visiting. They probably weren't worth it. Opening the door meant that she would have to get up, put on pants and maybe a bra, and _entertain _a guest_. _She sorta didn't want to do any of that.

The doorbell rang again. Tar barked again and Sigh tsked.

Maybe their visitor would go away?

And again.

She sighed loudly and angrily. The bell rang again as she approached it and she scowled. "FINE BUT I'M NOT WEARING A BRA."

"WHATEVER BITCH WASN'T EXPECTING YOU TO." Came the haughty response. Cindy breezed into the manor in denim men's pants and a cotton shirt, her wispy blonde hair perpetually granting her the appearance of having survived a wind storm. Although Sigh was not wearing anything more than a pajama top from her husband's drawer and an old pair of boxer shorts she could hardly bring herself to be embarrassed at her age.

"Woah. Your boobs are super swollen."

"Fuck you."

"Your feet too."

Cindy Cullen had figured out the secret of Lord Death and "Ms. Lithe" within a week of entering her job at Shibusen. She had sauntered into Sigh's classroom with a proud look upon her face, like she had won a marvelous game, and had thrown all that she knew onto the table. The woman's brashness and the familiar grey of her eyes had startled Psyche to the extent that all the immortal could do was invite the woman to tea.

Theirs was a strange friendship. Cindy hadn't required bribing to hold her silence, as she found it difficult to make "normal" friends and found Sigh's presence too endearing to surrender to gossip. She lived by herself on the edge of the city, in a crooked grey and green house with windows to the north she never shut and windows to the south with the shutters consistently drawn. She had no family to speak of since her grandmother had died, so she had applied to a position in Shibusen fresh from her Master's degree in Soul Wavelength manipulation. All the best Death Weapon schools in the hemisphere had clamored for her but she had had her sights set on Shibusen since she was a little girl. Following old family stories.

Sigh had conducted the woman's interview. And hired her before Lord Death could get a say in. Perhaps that had attributed to the mounting evidence Cindy had amassed to prove their marital status?

Cindy couldn't keep house worth shit, and it wasn't uncommon to see her wandering the halls of the school like a ghost, muttering theories to herself in a dingy lab coat. Several of her students called her the "Gray Lady" for this reason, although she had several admirers from the more intellectual teenagers. She and Sigh nearly always took a lunch together because she had quickly caught on that Lord and Lady Death were centuries-old foodies and the food the Lady brought always ridiculously amazing.

Something about Cindy made Sigh want to take care of her, perhaps something to do with the fact that real friends were hard to come by for the Queen of the Witches and the Bride of Death. And the young woman seemed earnest in her motivations, something that was so rare in the capricious way of the world that Sigh had been made to address over the decades.

They sat at the table while Cindy shoveled what remained of Sigh's breakfast into her mouth. Sigh's brow was wrinkled as she continued to grade papers. Cindy had obviously skipped a meal or two in the past twenty-four hours. "So," the scientist paused as her older friend spoke "what brings you here?" Cindy blinked, the bright frivolity that came naturally to her light grey eyes hardened. "Update for Lord Death. Is he-"

"Meeting." Sigh set down her pen. "Leave it with me. He promised I could be involved, anyway." Cindy hesitated briefly before passing over the flank of paperwork. "Nothing major. A bit suspicious in their silence, but our murderers haven't made a major move since the slaughter of the girls." Sigh's fingers stiffened. "And I hope to be rid of them before their next 'major move.'" Cindy nodded, rolling a grape about on her tongue. "Sigh," the woman set down her fork. "What is your history with _Caballeros de la bruja cristal_?" Sigh pursed her lips. "That accursed need of yours to know everything rears its ugly head again." Cindy made a face. "Are you going to try to distract me with a another story of my ancestor?" Sigh chuckled through her nose. "No, Cindy…tempting, but no."

"Good." Cindy straightened. "So…_Caballeroes de la bruja cristal._" Sigh took off her glasses, rubbing the space between her brow. "They started as lost morons, and turned into something more dangerous…no." She lifted a hand. "I'm wrong. Ignorance is the most dangerous poison in the world." Cindy frowned. "Their group is really old, huh?" Sigh smiled blithely. "Hasn't your research shown you that?" Cindy shrugged. "Still. Nice hearing it from someone I know was there."

"I understand that." Sigh sipped her tea, leaning back. The space between her shoulders ached, and she was attempting to alleviate the growing weight on her body. It was funny. She had the strength of a hundred strong women and yet found the stress upon her spine from one child inconvenient. She appreciated being humbled. Made her feel alive. "Does their resurgence have something to do with the public knowledge in regards to the 'Guest Speaker' coming to Shibusen? Or the new Death Jr.?"

"No."

"Okay."

"But it can't possibly make things any better."

"I'd imagine not." Sigh hummed through her nose. "This is the second time in twenty-four hours I've been made to make this point, but I don't appreciate my children being looped into anything I do." Cindy sipped her tea and made a face. It tasted like mop-water but Sigh was already pouring herself another cup. "That being said, I'm not sure that I want to draw you any further into this organization's history." Cindy glowered. "I'm not a child."

"You are to me. Sorry, it's stuck in my head. And I'm sorta passionate about my family." Cindy glared. Sigh raised an eyebrow. They watched each other during a pregnant pause before Cindy pursed her lips. "I'll find out eventually, even if you don't tell me."

"Not gonna be so easy. Happened during the Second Dark Ages so records are going to be blurry."

"Regardless." Sigh smiled. "Bothersome need to know everything…" Cindy smiled in return. "Like great-great-great Grandpa?"

"He tried to kill me…I think. He claimed to be teaching me. You come from strange stock."

"You're one to talk, Lady Death." Sigh stuck out her tongue playfully. Cindy crossed her eyes. "That reminds me…me and your students aside, you have other kids?" Sigh shrugged. "Well, yeah. I raised the 'Guest Speaker'." Cindy raised an eyebrow. "You're kidding." Sigh shook her head. "And you said I couldn't distract you with another story…"


End file.
